Part 1, siren sub-plot

Sirens

            Calvin was still reeling from his fight with the Aeons. If Tyrell hadn’t intervened, Alec would have died. And that boy! That scruffy little excuse for a soldier had hurt him. Badly. As some Siren’s attended his wound, six more stood before him. “What do you want?” Calvin was in no mood to deal with people. Even if they had volunteered to serve him. “Harbinger, we are your Generals. We served the Great Master before Jealousy, and now we will serve you.”

            “Can I assure your loyalty?” Calvin asked, as the last bandage was wrapped around his chest. He stood. “Sir, we serve the same master you do.”

            “I serve no man but myself.” The Generals bowed their heads. “Well said, Harbinger.” Calvin turned. “Very well. Speak.” They started on the left side. The first Siren to step forward had a design of an arrow that crossed the eye slots of his mask. It was painted a deep hue of red, almost the color of blood. He bowed. “I have been given the name Siren Doom. I am the leader of the Death-Paladin Generals.” He rose and stood at attention. “My purpose on the battlefield is to coordinate our forces and to keep information flowing on and off the field.” Calvin sat down on a rock throne that had been given to him when he arrived.

            The next person to bow was a towering beast. He had to be at least four foot taller than Calvin. “I am Siren Pain, a Death-Paladin.” Calvin nodded and gazed at his mask. A red crescent had been drawn across the right side of his mask, from the forehead down to his chin. “I am what the Great Master calls the ‘Hammer’. If anything stands in your way - be it man, beast, or machination – I will reduce it to naught but rubble at your command.” Pain bowed and stood back. A small wiry figure stepped up and bowed. Doom, however, was the one to speak.

            “This is Siren Agony. She is the last of our Death-Paladins.” He said. “And why does she not speak?” Doom shook his head. “She was convicted for speaking slanders of the Emperor. A few zealots came and cut out her tongue for that. The Emperor spared her life, but the Sirens saved it and gave it new purpose.” Agony bowed. As she did, Calvin noticed the pattern on her mask. From eye level up, her mask and helmet were dyed red. “Agony’s job on the battlefield is to find officers, commanders, or other rallying points and eliminate them.” Agony bowed again and stepped back. The next Siren took a knee instead of bowing.

            “I am Siren Guile, your Reaper.” He said, with a hint of pleasure in his voice. Calvin perked up at that. “And what does that entail?” Guile bowed his head. “At your orders, I will kill any person, should it cost me my life. My spirit will not have rest until your foes lie dead in a pool of blood or in a smoldering heap.” Calvin smiled. “I may make use of you soon.” Next to Guile, another Siren took a knee. This one had a pattern of tears flowing from the eyes down to the chin.

            “So…you are the one that caught Tyrell.” She nodded. “I am Siren Sorrow, your infiltrator.” Calvin raised an eyebrow. “Repeat that.” He said. She complied. “Explain.” Sorrow nodded and bowed her head. “I have been tasked with making sure that you stay informed of any and all matters in this land. I have contacts in every major city, and I am nearly omniscient within Col. That being said, I am in the unique position to organize and, if possible, provide for your comfort. Should you need anything, I am more than capable of supplying it.” Calvin smiled. “In addition, I am quite skilled on the battlefield. I will also act as your second should you be absent during a key meeting or in the event of a surprise attack.”

            “And who is your second?”

            “Doom, sir.”

            “And his?”

            “Guile.” Calvin seemed impressed. But then again, he was also heavily sedated on medicine. “And after him?” She paused and turned to the last Siren. “That.” The Siren in question took a knee. This one had a flat black mask with no patterns or even eye slots. “Who are you?” There was no answer. “I asked you a question!”

            “Master,” Doom said, “That thing only responds to orders.” Calvin stood and approached it. “Speak your name.” There was a pause before a raspy voice responded. “Plague.” There was a further pause. “State the reason behind your name.”

            “I cannot obey.” Calvin cocked his head sideways. “Why?” Silence. Calvin thought a moment. “Explain your answer.”

            “I could not obey orders. I was a plague to my Master’s house. Thus, Siren Plague was born.” Calvin nodded. “Explain: why do they call you a thing?” There was a disembodied laughter. Following it, the voice returned. “I am but a husk of what I once was. I am neither man nor woman; I am neither man nor beast. I simply…am.” A chill ran down Calvin’s spine. “Tell me your purpose.” There was a long and sickly inhale.

            “To exist. I contain a fragment of the Great Calamity. Should I need to, I shall return that fragment. I cannot fall or fail. I cannot be captured. I can fight without fear of death, as long as I am needed. Send me through a hail of arrows, and I shall embrace them with a smile. Send me into a shield-wall, and I will tear it down with my teeth. I am your secret weapon. Your trump card.” Plague silenced, and bowed his head. Calvin nodded, content. He returned to his throne and sat. “Very well…I have orders for you all.” The sirens dropped to both knees and awaited his orders. “The Death-Paladins are to affirm our relations with the Rebels.” Pain, Agony, and Doom nodded and disappeared with magic. “Guile, go and seek out Alec, the survivor of the Aeons. You need not kill him yet, but let him know that I’m…thinking about him. If you do need to kill him, bring me his head and the swords he carries.”

            “As you wish, Harbinger.” Guile stood and walked away, choosing not to waste his magic. “Plague: go and seek me out a scholar. I wish to know more about your Great Master and the Great Calamity.” Plague gave a sickly wail and melted into the floor. Calvin prayed that it was only his unique way of using the ‘blink’ spell. “As for you, Sorrow.” She raised her head. “I wish you to make me a sword to use. Now that I have been given magic, do not worry about it being impractical. Make the most fearsome and vicious looking blade possible. Make it capable of rending flesh, bone, steel, and stone. I wish it to be both a weapon of terror and mass destruction.” She nodded and stood.

            “Oh, and Sorrow.” She turned. “Yes, master?”

            “When you return, I will have some other tasks for you.” She bowed and teleported away. Calvin reclined into his throne. “In here, I am a god.” He smiled and fell into the first peaceful sleep in a long, long time.