A Sinner's Eden

***Tirnanog, Old Camp***

***Astra***

“Are they really going to do this?” I asked Thalia with a bit of disbelief in my voice while I watched Magnus bang his fist against the huge blast door barring our way into the bunker.

“They are,” Thalia mumbled while she observed the scene of my partner taking out his frustrations on the door. “Their emotions are dampened, but it feels to me like they have no intention of coming out.”

In hindsight, we shouldn't have been surprised at finding the settlement's sole defensible position on full lockdown. After thinking it over, I realized I was considering the situation too much from the position of power which came with being a partnered warrior. Had I been unpartnered and in the Thich's shoes, I would have also locked myself in a hole and hoped for reinforcements to arrive.

Their only other choice was to flee hundreds of kilometres on foot with an airborne enemy breathing down their necks. The chances of surviving such an endeavour were next to zero.

“Magnus, you can stop,” Thalia said. “There is no way they would open the door for us in their state of mind.”

“What are we going to do then?” Magnus kicked the door. “Maybe we should smoke them out? Hey! Do you hear me in there? Either you come out now, or we will find all the ventilation shafts for your little hideout and set some fires!”

My partner pressed the side of his helmet against the door and listened while Thalia let out a deep, frustrated sigh. Probably because my partner’s threat had set off an intense reaction of fear from those on the other side.

Thalia massaged her temple and flared her wings before folding them against her back. “You aren't making it any better, Magnus.”

I covered my mouth with mirth as I watched my partner pressed against the door like some naughty child. Hopefully, we would get back to our son soon. “Magnus, just use your filaments to listen with echolocation. It's ten times better than the old flesh flaps you got upon birth.”

“Hush, woman.” He waved me off. “Someone is whispering on the other side.”

“Yes, they are very afraid of us.” Thalia rolled her eyes.

I sighed and turned to address her, “We might have to wait for the return of the airships. They will have the equipment to crack that bunker open.”

“Unless your hubby finds a way in on his own.” Thalia gestured at Magnus who was trying to melt his way into the bunker by channelling a continuous ball of plasma. He held it in place right on the metal's surface with considerable effort.

I pursed my lips while I watched the attempt. It was a nice idea, but thwarted by the blast door's huge mass which transported the heat away as soon as the plasma introduced it. Given it was also a remnant left behind by the original settlers, I wouldn't be surprised if the door had inbuilt countermeasures against such obvious attacks.

My partner abandoned his current approach when he achieved nothing more than chipped paint and a small glowing spot on the door. He shook his hand and the ball of arching plasma on his palm stretched out into a cone combined with the crackling sound of an arc welder.

“How long until he gives up and takes the easy way?” Thalia asked.

I tilted my head from left to right as I considered his current antics. “Till the ships arrive and crack the bunker for us.”

“Speaking of new arrivals,” Thalia turned and focused on a spot to our left. “Someone is making his way in our direction. He is following the bunker's wall to our left.”

“Why didn't you say so earlier?” I asked. I was sure Thalia was capable of tracking people from further away than a few metres.

“Because the survivors who remained at the settlement are the equivalent of an emotional storm which makes it difficult to keep track of individuals. There is nothing I can do about it. I am not going to hunt down every single survivor for Conla,” Thalia bristled. “She asked me to clear the settlement of opposition – which I did. And I didn't mention him because he was watching from the palisade for some time before becoming bold. I am sure it's just a scout who was outside my range when I let loose.”

“Really?” I angled one of my javelins in the direction Thalia had pointed out, ready to launch an attack should the newcomer turn out to be hostile. The bunker wasn't the centre of the settlement. It was set up directly at the northern wall, closest to the cliffs behind the grove. If someone was coming to aid the Thich inside the bunker, he would likely choose this direction as an approach vector. Otherwise, they would have to make their way through the settlement’s ruins.

A gaunt, almost wraith-like face took a peek around the curve of the bunker's wall and disappeared again right away, giving me no opportunity to snipe him. He had obviously known we were here, or he wouldn't have stopped right before presenting himself as a target.

“Are you clanners?” a shaky voice called out.

I pursed my lips at the use of the term and relaxed with the javelin. Those belonging to a clan would rather refer to themselves and others by their clan's name. The only ones regularly using the term 'clanner' were exiles from the Old Camp, implying they had no clan of their own. “Yes, we are from Clan Aerie. We drove away the Thich.”

The person squinted once more around the curve of the wall. “Astra? Is that you?”

He knew me? Was he a survivor of the Old Camp? I took a closer look at the emaciated face in an attempt to line up his features with exiles I knew – which weren't many aside from Gurney, some stall owners, and... the haunted voice sounded familiar. “Mark?”

Thalia and I exchanged a glance.

“Thank Gaia! I thought you were a goner!” Using a flash step, Magnus appeared out of nowhere right behind the harrowing-looking survivor and slapped him on the back, making the man stumble forward and come into full view.

At least that was what should have happened.

Instead, Mark rolled forward, dodging most of Magnus's palm, and came back up with his bow at the ready. Not that it would have helped him against someone in full armour.

“Hey!” My partner raised his arms and took off his helmet. “Don't be so jumpy. Everything's alright! Don't you remember me? You still owe me a few hunting lessons.”

Once he recognized Magnus, Mark dropped his bow and actually went and hugged my partner who patted his hyperventilating friend's back awkwardly.

“You... are back! You are... back! Not... more Thich!”

Magnus let the strange reunion go on for a few seconds before he called it quits. “Ah, too much, dude. Call me a macho, but I am not into that kind of stuff... unless it's a pretty woman. And no offence, but you reek!”

I cleared my throat.

“Of course! Astra here is the only one who can hug me like that!” Magnus quickly corrected himself to my satisfaction.

With some encouragement from my partner, Mark let go and sank to the floor as if all his power had left him. Magnus helped, ensuring Mark wouldn't just fall over like a sack of grain.

“Oh, oh, I am so glad... so glad,” Mark babbled, sounding slightly delirious and beside himself.

This worried me.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Thalia and I made our way over to take a closer look at the survivor. Since our departure, I never thought much of Mark. To me, he had been just the exile who Gurney employed to teach Magnus basic survival skills.

And later, Mark was just an acquaintance who hunted with Magnus and me for a few weeks before we left for Mount Aerie. I realized Magnus had formed a friendship with his instructor, but to me, Mark had been... a third wheel which interfered with the budding relationship I was trying to form with Magnus.

But even knowing very little about him and overlooking my misgivings about his presence at the time, my impression of Mark hadn't been bad. Mark was one of the better exiles. Certainly not someone who deserved to end up in such a state. Seeing him like this... this wasn't right.

His clothes were torn and his equipment looked like he had spent a few months in the woods. I had known him to be an experienced hunter – at least around the Old Camp. He should have been fine as long as he had a shelter for the night, but whatever he had been through had left its mark on the man.

Had he gone primal in the woods to avoid the Thich? How had he even survived the nights outside the Old Camp? I could dig someone being lucky a few nights in a row, not encountering anything too lethal. But several weeks? Impossible!

Mark looked tired and gaunt to an unhealthy point, so I reached into the pouch at my side and retrieved one of the ration bars. I cracked the wax sealing open and handed it to him. “Dried starfish. I hope you can eat it?”

He looked forlorn at the food before he processed my words and snatched the bar out of my hands, tearing into it. Which only proved the state he was in. Any exile who didn't have their UI unlocked should be extremely wary of food coming from an unknown source.

Only a starving man would forget about triple-checking his food.

“Let me have a look.” Thalia pushed past me to perform her wonders. I was under no illusions. There wasn't much she could do without medical equipment, but at least she could give Mark a first check-up.

Magnus offered a flask with water from his supplies, which was handily rebuffed by Thalia. “Do you want to kill him? You took a swim in deathnut oil less than an hour ago. Don't offer your consumables to someone without poison resistance!”

“I washed!” my partner protested.

“You splashed yourself down – which satisfies my safety concerns for the moment. At least when it comes to touching,” Thalia chided Magnus while handing Mark a water bottle from her supplies. “If I were you, I wouldn't get any of your gear near anyone until you disassemble your whole kit and wash it piece by piece. If you insist on using poison going forward, you won't get around thorough schooling on whatever components you wish to use.”

“Yes, Ma'am.” Magnus retracted his bottle and instead took a sip himself.

“I don't know what deathnut oil is,” Mark pointed out. “But I am pretty... good with poisons... my blood being one... and all that.” He chuckled self-derisively.

“Right.” Thalia regarded him with a frown and placed a palm on his forehead. “You have a swampfrog mutation if I remember correctly? You can infuse your blood with various toxins. To be honest, I wouldn't have suspected someone with your skills could survive this nightmare. Why don't you tell us what happened here while we wait for help to arrive?”

Mark did just that, beginning with the night of the Thich's takeover. His speech was halting in the beginning, but he sped up as we fed him more of our rations.

The tale he spun of his survival sounded almost fantastical. From taking down a night terror with serendipity to escaping the occupation forces which arrived the morning after.

Most of the other exiles didn't make it through the night. Those who did, didn't have the spirit to resist the occupation. Mark connected the dots only after the Old Camp had fallen and he and a small group of exiles were fleeing into the mountains.

The Thich must have agitated the beasts and taken down the palisade to have their work done for them. It also explained why the bunker was suddenly on lockdown at the worst of times with Gurney nowhere to be found. He was the only one who could have possibly taken the reins and repelled the attack.

Mark observed the airship's arrival from afar the day after, having no clue why a clan would suddenly attack the exiles in such a manner.

The new rulers of the Old Camp had no scruples and picked those they had a use for. The rest was chased off to die in the coming snow. Some joined Mark's group and others disappeared in the wilderness.

Before winter came, the first group of exiles was flown away with the airships – probably to become slaves. The rest were already gone when Mark returned after the spring storms ended.

Mark didn't know what happened to them.

He and a few others made their way to the northern mountain chain where they used the closest Aerie travel shelters to get over the winter. Of the eight survivors in Mark's shelter, only three emerged at the end of the winter. And Mark was now the only one left. The other two had been too weakened to survive the now flourishing fauna and flora.

As far as Mark knew another group of exiles had tried to follow the mountain chain to Mount Aerie, but Mark hadn't dared to risk it.

Remembering how our group had just barely made it before the snow, I could only applaud his judgement.

“I returned and camped in the woods... I didn't dare to leave the vicinity of the Old Camp,” Mark confessed. “I knew the clans have settlements out there and the others insisted on trying their luck with finding another clan. But without knowing the direction, they could have run off into the backcountry for all I knew. So I stayed nearby and watched the Thich, hoping someone would come. When I saw the airships departing in a hurry... I almost didn't dare to hope.”

“Don't worry, Mark.” Thalia patted the man's shoulder while holding his hand. “Everything will be alright now.”

I hadn't failed to notice that my friend had used her ability on Mark because his halting speech became more fluent and secure the longer he spoke. From Magnus's expression, he had also picked up on it but hadn't said anything despite his dislike of psychic influence.

Judging by how Mark acted before Thalia intervened, he just wouldn't have been in the right frame of mind to tell us his story.

We did our best for Mark until half an hour later, our fleet returned and we could hand him over to some medics.

Of the ten airships in our fleet, only six were airborne, with two completely unrepairable ships.

Conla had pressed the attack on the eight Thich airships as much as possible, but four airships still got away. Mainly because one of them had a special weapon on board – a laser. It was the reason why two of our ships suddenly caught fire for no obvious reason. Allowing the ships to escape must have been no easy decision, but after losing ten more riders to the laser Conla decided to cut her losses.

There was no longer a question that Thich was receiving weaponry from Earth. Our only luck was that weapons like the laser had downsides without a sufficient power source, limiting their reach and rate of fire.

Had the elders sent any fewer ships, Conla might have been unable to retake the Old Camp. On paper, we had won a victory and chased off the enemy with fewer losses than we inflicted. Four of the Thich ships would never fly again while we lost only two. But we hadn't taken out the laser and the rockets deployed against us were “use and forget” anyway.

It stood to question how much of this 'aid' the Thich would receive in the coming conflict. Enough to counter Aerie's air superiority?

While our troops secured the Old Camp, we returned to Conla's command ship.

Thalia took Mark to the infirmary while Astra and I returned to the observation platform from where Conla was supervising the operation. We stayed for another hour until Conla declared the Old Camp as secured. Purging the bunker was a matter which we weren’t needed for, so we set up a secure jaunt point and returned to Mount Aerie for the night.

Which was of course very welcomed by Isaac, who went to sleep nestled in between us.

The night was once more occupied by one of Gaia’s cramming sessions during which she educated us on our ability. It was only thanks to the sub-identities I could even keep up with the more advanced theories she was sharing.

My head was smoking when Magnus asked a question, thankfully calling a short pause on the lesson.

“Why is it that the growth rate of my filaments seems to be slowing down?”

Gaia stopped her scribbles on the chalkboard and looked at us with a displeased frown. She was rather irritable and impatient when she was in her teaching mode.

When no immediate answer came, Magnus clarified, “I have been taking measures of my filaments, noting down their speed of growth to get an idea of when I might be able to soar like Astra.”

The avatar pursed her lips. “I am sorry to disappoint, but that is unlikely. Filaments aren’t like hair.”

Now it was my turn to frown. “What do you mean?”

“Sexual dimorphism,” Gaia explained. “Something the Gestalt came up with when it designed your species.”

“But…” Magnus exclaimed baffled. “… that’s unfair! Weren’t you the one who manipulated our genes?”

Gaia threw her chalk at his forehead and had a new one appear in her hand. “Be a little more grateful. The differences between the sexes are something the Gestalt hard-coded into most of Earth’s biosphere to foster evolutionary adversity and competition. It isn’t something I can just ‘do away’ with. Unless you want to have bigger tits, weaker muscles, and your brain chemistry altered, you have to accept it.”

“I like his muscles,” I mumbled while I tried to imagine Magnus with said traits.

“No thanks,” he replied. “On second thought, I am completely fine with shorter filaments. No need to sail when I can teleport. But why would the Gestalt want adversity and competition in her creations? Aren’t we symbiotically linked? If I could design my own body, I would want it as perfect as possible.”

Gaia shrugged. “The Gestalt is thinking on different time scales. Designing an organism for a certain environment might be beneficial in the short term, but it would require a conscious effort on our part. As a whole, the Gestalt prefers a ‘hands off’ approach, allowing what you call natural selection and mutation. Power gained through adversity, competition, and polymorphy is something which requires no effort on our part and it is all the same to us. It has worked for millions of years and prevented our end several times. You won’t change the Gestalt’s opinion on this.”

“You differentiate between the Gestalt and yourself in this case,” I pointed out. “So your point of view is different?”

Over the last weeks, I had noticed a pattern of how Gaia was separating herself from the rest of the Gestalt not by being an individual, but by having a different opinion on certain topics.

Gaia nodded. “Being ‘alone’ on Tirnanog has allowed me to form a more independent opinion. As you might have noticed, I believe it might be beneficial to take a more active role in managing the platform I am living on. It's less than ideal to have the peak predators among my creations fight among themselves instead of the enemy who wants to kill me. Can we return to the lesson now? I want to get this done.”

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