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mass-convergence · 2 days

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Introducing my fantasy version of the three main numerical models meteorologists use. If you know, you know.

Chapter 15: Tremors

Torvola did not get much sleep that night. After the day’s events she thought she’d have slept like the dead. Instead she had cried until her head ached and her exhausted body finally succumbed to a restless sleep. She was quite suddenly ejected from her fitful slumber by the earth shifting violently below her body. She bolted upright, cussing and looking worriedly at the stone walls around her that creaked and groaned in protest at the sudden movement of the ground. The quake lasted a few seconds more before slowly ebbing away - the ground not feeling quite as stable as it had before.

She looked to the window, the pane had cracked but not shattered. Outside she heard the sounds of bricks hitting the cobblestones and people shouting. The glass the window was made of was frosted, allowing light in but not allowing her to see the scene below. Torvola walked back to her bed and pulled her shift over her head. Her hands trembled as she picked up the tunic that lay on the chest and she took a deep breath to calm her nerves.

How close had the source of that quake been? Was it another rift? Were they going to be attacked by the same monsters that had ravaged her village?

Venera had a powerful army at her disposal, the most talented mages in her employ, and the castle was the most fortified structure in the realm. They had a fighting chance if a horde of those things attacked.

Though Torvola shuddered to think of the losses they would suffer in such a battle were it to occur.

She finished dressing and stepped out of the room into the chaos that filled the hallway. Servants were rushing about, checking for damage and cleaning the dust and powdered stone that had fallen from the walls in the tremor. The guards seemed more calm though still on edge, hands tightly grasped the hafts of their poleaxes and they walked stiffly as if every muscle were tensed, ready to fight at a moment’s notice.

Torvola heard snippets of discussion as she walked the hallways.

“Is this what hit the coast?”

“How long until those things come at us?”

“Can the castle take another shake like that?”

She ran into Massim, the man was talking to a younger woman, “How much damage do you think we took?”

“Enough to knock bricks loose,” the woman said, “I’ve sent my apprentices to inspect the outer walls - I wouldn’t be concerned: this castle was built to handle sieges Massim.”

Massim scoffed, “The ground itself moved. Tell me: was the castle built to handle that?”

He noticed Torvola’s arrival and gave her a nod in greeting, “Lady Torvola, are you well?”

“I’m fine Massim,” Torvola said, “A tad shaken I suppose.”

Massim let out a strained chuckle, “I think we all are. I presume Her Majesty will call for us soon to discuss this.”

Torvola felt a pang in her heart at the mention of Venera. She swallowed the lump that suddenly rose in her throat and nodded, “Of course.”

He motioned for Torvola to accompany him and they walked through the castle grounds, the fortress was still standing, though there was certainly damage. As they stepped out into the courtyard they were roughly shoved aside by a woman in green robes barreling past them. The reason for her haste was made known only a few moments later when Torvola spotted a group of guards surrounding one of their own who was prone on the ground, his dented helm was cast carelessly aside. Blood leaked from a grievous wound on his head and stained the stones below.

The woman knelt by the man and muttered a few words under her breath as the air wavered around her.

Massim frowned at the sight, “If we’ve dealt with this amount of damage and injury within our walls, I shudder to think of the situation in the city.”

Torvola looked to the gates that remained tightly shut, “I’m sure our queen will send aid as soon as she can. I don’t recall us ever getting tremors this deep into the continent.”

“No,” Massim shook his head, “This is unusual. Sometimes we get small tremors, the earth settling or some ancient crack in deep in the ground slipping.”

“Ancient cracks?” Torvola asked.

Massim shrugged, “Where I came from, we dealt with these situations a lot more often. It gave a lot of evidence and reason for us to theorize about what caused them. Of course you’d get the ‘wrath of Tepra’ explanation from the priests, but some of us though were interested in more grounded explanations for these things.”

Torvola wasn’t sure if he caught onto the pun or not as Massim continued without skipping a beat. He was seemingly in his element now, spouting off all sorts of theories as to the cause of tremors, “Of course my uncle thought that movement of air underground would push the rocks enough to shake the ground. I read elsewhere that there was evidence that massive sections of earth are moving around, like lily pads on a pond. When they bump into each other, they cause quakes.”

“That makes no sense,” Torvola said, “Rock can’t float on water. The ground isn’t constantly moving.”

“Well of course they can’t! It’s not water they float on … it’s rock … molten rock. The currents that flow through them move slowly, almost imperceptibly,” Massim said. He looked at Torvola with a gleam in his eye, “You must know the ground isn’t as solid as it seems. There’s always small cracks, faults in within the earth itself. If the songs the bards sing about you are correct … you grew up the daughter of a miner, yes?”

“A lord of a mountain town,” Torvola corrected, “But I spent a fair amount of my childhood underground.”

“Then you know,” Massim said, “You know the continent can’t be a solid chunk of rock - so why can’t it be split like lily pads in a pond … just more tightly packed. Do you think the Barrens sprung up out of nowhere? No - two or more of these sections of continent … of these ‘lily pads’ - they must have collided, pushed against each other and forced themselves up into those massive mountains.”

Torvola rubbed the bridge of her nose, thoroughly lost, “So we don’t sit on one of these … boundaries.”

“I don’t think so,” Massim replied, “Given the history of the area - and how absurdly flat it is out here.”

“So quakes are not common at all.”

“No.”

“So what’s causing them?”

Massim grew quiet, “I don’t know,” he finally said.

Adren approached, “Master Massim, Lady Torvola,” he said with a bow, “Queen Venera requests your presence in the council chambers immediately.”

“Both of us?” Torvola asked, surprised.

“Yes,” Adren replied, “Both of you.”

Massim shot Torvola a questioning look and she shrugged.

***

“We all agree.”

The gaze of everyone who sat around the council table snapped to the three figures that had stepped into the room. Torvola knew of them, the Seers of Irozia: Camock, Eduron, and Galfus. Three powerful and mysterious mages who were born with the gift of foresight. Though their predictions were never definite as the future was as fickle as the winds.

It was Eduron who spoke first but Camock continued, “We are all in grave danger.”

“The earth splits, darkness - blacker than pitch - oozes from the cracks,” Galfus said.

“The dark poisons the ground,” Eduron said, “Rot, sulfur, death … so much death.”

“When?” Venera asked.

“A week,” Galfus said, his voice trembling.

“Nay … one … maybe two months,” Camock said with a dirty look at Galfus.

“I say we may have up to a year,” Eduron glared at the other two who glared back at her.

“Great,” Venera said with a sigh, “Even when you all agree that the world is about to end - you can’t give me an accurate answer as to when.”

“We can’t prepare the realm in a week,” Uthred said, the sharp edge of panic to his voice cut through the tension in the room.

“How certain are you,” Torvola looked to Galfus, “Are you sure it will be a week.”

“As sure as I can be … currently,” Galfus answered.

“Currently,” Torvola said flatly.

Guin spoke up, “It means he’ll change his mind by lunch,” she looked at Venera, “I don’t know why you keep consulting these three.”

Venera stared evenly back at Guin, “They’re the best we have.”

Streta cleared her throat, “The Seers may be mysterious in their methods but they’re reliable - most of the time.”

Massim let out a breath, “Fine. They agree that some great evil is upon us. Where? When? How bad?”

He rolled his eyes as the seers began to squabble amongst themselves.

“The Barrens,” Camock said, “It will begin there. It will be a slow spread - like the roots of a tree cracking the earth.”

“No no no,” Galfus said, “Here. It will happen here. Beneath our feet! Fast. As sudden as snuffing out a candle. We will all die!”

“You both are wrong,” Eduron snapped, “To the southeast - towards Disaba. It will take a long while for it to reach us. We may yet live if we prepare now.”

Torvola crossed her arms and watched as the rest of the council table began to devolve into chaos. Uthred rose his voice as he started arguing with his sister, “We need to prepare. We haven’t much time!”

“For what?!” Guin asked, “We can’t fight the earth itself!”

“They can’t tell us where and when,” Massim said, “How sure are we that this shared vision of theirs will persist?!”

“You dare question the Seer’s visions?” Streta glowered at Massim.

Massim scoffed, “They can’t even agree on what the cooks are going to make for supper tonight.”

“And you think that we should sit back and twiddle our thumbs, waiting for them to come to some better consensus before we act? We may be dead before then,” Uthred shot back.

“We can’t just raise our entire army in a week,” Guin said, “Even you know that.”

Venera and Torvola exchanged a glance and Torvola stood up from the table and placed her fingers in her mouth and blew. An action she had done many times before in situations just like these. The high pitched, loud whistle echoed off the rocky walls of the room - much louder than the shouts that had filled the air.

The room went dead silent as everyone looked at Torvola and then at Venera as she cleared her throat.

“We have much to discuss,” she said, “But perhaps we should take a break before we reconvene.”

“Your Majesty,” Uthred began to say.

“We won’t resolve this in the next ten minutes,” Venera said, “Especially not if we’re all shouting at each other. Take a break.”

“Perhaps we give our seers some more time to … do whatever they do,” Massim said, “Perhaps they’ll reach a better consensus by this evening?”

He looked at the trio who shrugged in unison.

“Perhaps,” Camock said.

“Though I doubt it,” Galfus muttered.

“That we can all agree on,” Eduron said.

#also hey look … PLOT

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