《Light Pollution》


 Prologue

    The city was a jungle of metal and concrete. The smog that rose from the factories on the cracked concrete of the lower levels spawned suffocating clouds of black, traveling through the winding corridors of vast skyscrapers, towering dozens of stories into the sky. From out Abby¡¯s window, being part of the poorer working class, she would''ve had the sight of these factories, but rather she and her family were lucky, purchasing an apartment in one of the innumerable towers of buildings that gave view of the richer district, full of sleek, shining glass and an architectural style unique to each building. The district which Abby lived in was industrial, as was her father and mother¡¯s occupation. As such, the buildings were molded after this. Huge masses of bare steel cast shadows across the aforementioned factories, where hundreds of thousands of workers spilled in and out of every day.


    The existence twelve year old Abbie lead, as one could assume, was one of routine. Completing the same tasks she did the previous day, every day. She was confined almost exclusively to their apartment, a small three-room house that was about the size of three cars lined up against each other. There was the kitchen, a living room which served as both a dining area and everyone''s bedroom, and the bathroom, which was a glorified hole in the ground. The wood flooring of the kitchen transitioned to tiled flooring which looked as if a single piece of stone was laid into the floor, with the bedroom using a patchy and stained carpet for its floor. The whole interior was unpainted, as that cost money, an object her family had a sore lack of.


    One day, while Abbie was being kissed goodbye by her mother and father, cleaning the dishes from the meager pieces of toast and eggs she had made for breakfast, a flurry of movement caught her attention from the corner of her eye. The door had swung open, exposing a dark door inset in a wall that looked as if it were to fall down at a moment''s notice.


    Startled, she dropped the plate with a clatter that she had been scrubbing and began shuffling towards the door, but recoiled as a torrent of bodies flashed across her crack in the door; a huffing man in a dusty suit and torn hat jogging down the hall that was now visible. After the stranger had passed, Abbie began to inch towards the door, carefully now as the commuters passed by with increasing occurrence. Waiting a few feet from the entrance, she watched as the flow of people began to ebb, until no more came through her field of vision.


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    Pushing lightly on the door creaking on its hinges, Abbie took a tentative step onto the rotten floorboards, the decaying wood slightly warping as her foot pressed down. Glancing down both directions of the hallway, which appeared to go on in either direction for miles, found every door to be opened. The small green sign on the ceiling indicating the stairwell pointed to her left, leading her down flights and flights of stairs; 57, 56, 55, 54... Abbie climbed down and down, her legs carrying her farther and farther. When the wall had said 45, Abbie''s legs were aching.


    However, when Abbie had hit the 40 mark, there was a horrible noise, as if two 40-foot chalkboards scraped against each other horribly. Not that Abbie would have had any idea what this meant, as she was eight. Clutching her ears, she felt the building shaking and rattling as if another Earth-tremor was happening. Sprinting out through the opened door and into the hall, she quickly found a window to see what was happening outside.


    Peering through the glass window pane, Abbie couldn''t describe what was happening in front of her. The glowing lights of every building were blinking out of existence. Huge portions at once, darkness caused by the clouds of smog enveloping the entire sprawling metropolis. Machinery used to purge the atmosphere of the smog began shutting down, the enormous pumps being the source of the horrid screeching. Confused as to why this was happening, Abbie scanned the ground for signs of any abnormalities that might have caused this. As her eyes followed the outline of a now-lightless building, she fell upon the sky. Huge pulses of energy were ripping their way through the clouds of pollution, creating bolts of lightning that struck down onto buildings, the subsequent thunder being drowned out by the incessant screaming of the powering down oxygen pumps.


    Another shake of the building she occupied was followed by the building splitting apart in front of her, crumbling as the thunderous noise generated by it added to the deafening wall of sound that was caused by the pumps. Slipping into the ever-growing fissure in the hallway, Abbie clawed for a handhold to latch onto. She too, began screaming as the floor slanted more and more, the ever-growing fissure ready to swallow her into its maw.

 Chapter 1

    Lillie Sadik swung on her branch idly, tail wrapped around where it attached to the tree trunk. Humming softly to herself, she watches with disengaged interest as her father prepares their first meal of the day. In her hands she holds a toy she made for herself a few years ago, a doll of her mother comprised of metal scraps and tufts of grass.


    ¡°Lillie, why don¡¯t you start the veggies? They need longer to cook than the lannger steak.¡± Her father requested, taking an improvised dagger from his belt and dicing up the meat into small chunks before submerging them in sour munsfruit juice.


    ¡°Okay pa,¡± she replies, hopping from branch to branch to their wooden platform.


    She scoops their only pot up, clambering down the tree to draw water; Down past Lady Peony¡¯s and the Shaze Family, down the hill to the well. Right against the farm fields.


    Having drawn water, Lillie pauses for a moment, sniffing the air. There''s a trace of smoke steadily growing. She looks around, spinning in place searching for the origin of that acrid smell. Turning to the fields of grain, she lets out a startled gasp, dropping the pot full of water to the ground with a clatter.


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    Figures towering above the grain on stilt-like legs rake the golden plants with fire spewing from their bodies as Lillie makes out tiny silhouettes of the farmers, fleeing the monstrosities.


    She watches as one of the farmers, closest to the flame-spewers, is suddenly impaled on one of the creature''s massive, spindly legs. Shaking in horror, she screws her eyes shut, tears snaking their way down her face as she runs back to her father as fast as her legs could carry.


    She stumbles as an ear-splitting sound booms out from behind her. It sounded like the death throes of a frightened lannger that found its way into their village, toppling several trees before it was subdued and killed.


    Already she could see Lady Peony darting down the tree, her tail looped tightly around a makeshift spear. She see Lillie, a look of horror and concern splashed across her features.


    ¡°Lillie! Oh, thank the spirits! Are you hurt? Your pa is-¡± she grits her teeth as another earth-shaking howl erupts from the fields.


    Farmers can be heard yelling now from the fields, as panicked children and frantic parents attempt to corral their offspring.


    ¡°We have to get you out of here, follow mama Shaze, to the tunnels!¡±


    Lillie shakes her head up and down, tears rolling down her cheeks as she scrambles up to the Shaze family and starts helping bring the children too young to climb down. She catches a glimpse of her pa putting on his armor, shouting commands to the other defenders as they start rushing down to the fields.

 Chapter 2

    Lillie had only been in the tunnels during the evacuation practices she and the other children went to after they moved to the glen. Machines have been harrying them since before she was born, if the frightening bedtime stories her pa tells her are true.


    Mama Shaze cast a light spell, but even then the walls seemed to close in on her as they traversed the corridor, distant shouts and the sounds of fighting echoing off every surface.


    ¡°Mama Shaze?¡± Lillie sputters out.


    ¡°Yes, hun? You holdin¡¯ up okay?¡± She replies, looking down at the diminutive child at her side.


    ¡°When will we see pa again? He always told me we would be separated for a while until he can be sure the constructs don¡¯t follow us. Those things are scary.¡± She wrings her hands through her tunic, staring down with a forlorn look.


    ¡°Of course, sweety. As soon as Preen can be certain they aren¡¯t able to track us he¡¯ll come back. He always does.¡± Mama Shaze pulls the girl into an embrace, before turning her attention back to her own children.


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    The eldest Shaze daughter, Monica, walks alongside Lillie. Nearly 3 suns between them.


    "So are these the same grabbies that chased our village from last time? Moma always mumbles in her sleep about how they''ll come back, guess she was right."


    Lillie stiffened further as they traversed the escape tunnel, remembering that horrible night the constructs invaded their town. Before they took to a nomadic life, when they had ancient relics to provide food and safety necessary to stay in the same spot.


    Henry and Jen start play-fighting, one of them taking the role of a construct, the other a defender. The teen playing the construct kept jabbing at the defender, who would deftly avoid the attempts at impaling him. He pulled an imaginary device from his pocket, throwing it towards his sister as she seized up and started twitching.


    ¡°Ha! I¡¯ve corrupted its index! Take this!¡± Henry shouts triumphantly, swinging an imaginary spear into the core of the fake machine.


    Jen lets out a wail that¡¯s almost too similar to the sounds outside and collapses to the ground, causing Lillie to shudder. They both start giggling as she rolls around and springs back to her feet.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough, you two,¡± Mama Shaze scolds them, pinching Henry on the ear.


    ¡°Ow! Ow! Alright, I get it,¡± he winces out, ¡°but I need to train to be the best defender of our village!¡±


    ¡°You won¡¯t learn anything you need by play fighting with your sister,¡± Mama Shaze retorts. ¡° You¡¯re still too young to be taken as an apprentice anyway. Have patience, my dear.¡±


    He sulks, Jen blowing raspberries at him. He snatches at her, but she pulls away at the last second giggling. The two chase each other around their mother, yelling and shouting.


    Only Lillie, the oldest child in the group, stays subdued as her father fights for their lives. Mama Shaze looks on at Lillie and Monica chatting, worry etching itself into her face.

 Chapter 3

    ¡°Hurry, we''re running out of time!" Retisin barks as he falls prone.


    "I''m moving, fast as I can," Preen huffs out, clambering over a twisted and gnarled fallen tree as he falls alongside his companion. "I''m well out of my prime, you know that Reti."


    ¡°Yeah, keep bellyaching - where is our backup? I thought we all agreed to meet here before any counters,¡± Retisin asks without expecting a response.


    The pair are clad in battered metallic armor, the plates pressing down and splaying their fur out. Each carries a staff adorned with a large gemstone attached to the end made of an organic polymer that can effectively conduct magic, along with an intricately filagreed short blade. Waistbands furnished with several devices encircle their waists, right above their tails.


    Retisin produces a spotting scope from a bag at his side, training it on the constructs rampaging through their fields.


    He grimaces; ¡°I¡¯ve never seen them act this way, they¡¯re scanning so carefully,¡± while passing the scope to Preen who brings it to his eye.


    The constructs are combing through the fields now, occasionally doubling back after one alerts the others to something it found. Their spindly limbs dig through the stalks of grain, searching and stabbing into suspect mounds of plant matter. Every once in a while, a construct strobes through several colors seemingly at random before several of them converge on the strobing one and a scream of pain echoes out.


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    ¡°Yeah, this is new,¡± Preen agrees. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen them sweep for survivors like that. It has to be a codex rewrite.¡±


    ¡°We need to let the captain know,¡± Retisin adds.


    Two more forms gather with Preen and Retisin, crouching low as they thumb their staffs. The four of them have not known each other for more than 2 years but after all they¡¯ve been through would gladly lay down their life for any of their comrades in arms.


    The older one, Maracles, scowls at what he sees before him, "They''ve been acting strange since we entered this valley."


    "How so?" his student Loffin asks, unsheathing her weapon.


    "It''s their patrols," Maracles explains, "We''ve only seen about half the normal constructs on patrol, now we know where the rest have gone off to."


    As another group of two join, Preen purses his lips and rises off the ground. "Everyone''s here now, let''s put a stop to them."


    They all finish their preparations, some uncorking glass containers on their hips and coating their bladed weapons with the liquid inside. Others go over the mechanisms with small streams of magic in their long range weaponry, ensuring their mana cell reserves are topped off before nodding towards Preen and Retisin.


    ¡°Maracles, take Loffin and secure the tunnel exit,¡± Preen commands, ¡°Retisin and I are with Dane and Hake to rescue as many civilians as we can.¡±


    Maracles nods as he and his apprentice turn around and make their way back into the treeline.


    The remaining group shares a look of grim determination as they rise in twos, staggering their approach on the constructs rampaging through their fields.

 Chapter 4

    It started just like every other day in the sowing season. Gaoul woke first, pawing at the countertop beside him for his cane. Yin follows suit shortly after, walking around the bedframe and putting Gaoul''s walking stick back from the floor from where it fell some time the night before. They get dressed, call their children, set breakfast and their constructs out, and begin preparing for the fields.


    They both pull thornstriders up over their legs, heavy fabric coveralls that keep the barbs of the spikestalk grain from poisoning them. The fabric causes their coats of fur to itch like fire, but it''s worth it for the protection they offer. Over that goes a belt styled similarly to the guardian''s around each of their waists with various implements dangling off small loops. There are some commonalities between their belts- seed pouches, seed boosters, and a dibbler to make holes in the soil; however, Yin also carries various trowls, garden rakes, and other devices while Gaoul has two constructs that tingle slightly where they rest on his hip.


    In the meantime, Lirriam, the eldest of their offspring, emerged from the children''s quarters. With twelve winters behind him, he is almost ready to start helping on the field proper.


    He shuffled towards his parents with a yawn and a stretch, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he greeted them.


    "Are you sure you don''t need my help today?" Lirriam asked, "I asked Grais if she wanted to play by the brook but she got in trouble with her parents yesterday so I can help," he continues, making his way to the kitchen to start breaking eggs and chopping meat and vegetables, going over the purple leaves twice to make sure he didn''t miss any of the tough fibers.


    "No my sweet," Yin replies. "Dad and I are good for today, why don''t y-"


    Gaoul cuts her off - "I think there''s some good earth we still need to bring in from the last expedition," he offers.


    Yin glances at him, lips pursed as she regards her husband and son. Gaoul in turn sets a small cooking fire into a pit which lays below a stand for a metal pot suspended overhead.


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    She sighs, adding "And send for any other boys that aren''t too busy so they can help."


    The land is blooming well before what manual labor could accomplish thanks to their construct Yin managed to keep when they fled their home, the large machine sitting idly under cover of a shed now that its job is done. Several other constructs occupied their home, one dedicated to cooling, allowing for food preservation. Another acts as entertainment for the children, emitting music and strobing colors to occupy their attention while Larriam cooks breakfast.


    The rest of the family unit emerges at their own times, meandering to the entertainment constructs where they plop themselves down and fiddle with the various bits and bobs the construct produces for them.


    Lirriam is calling to his siblings for breakfast when a loud crash resounds through the house from outside. Gaoul quickly hobbles to the window while Yin rushes to grab her weapon, a long-handled cultivator. Lirriam''s eyes shoot open, and he cowers below the tabletops sobbing with his siblings.


    When Gaoul gets to the window, a massive metal construct makes a beeline to the closest house, which so happens to be theirs. In its wake, a body lies still in a pool of crimson blood. Its massive metal arms flail wildly, destroying everything in its path.


    Gaoul curses under his breath, realizing that the construct is not a solitary faultforged, but rather sporting the tell-tale inorganic mark of their pursuers.


    "Get to the tunnels!" Gaoul shouts to his family. "I''ll try to hold it off. More must be close behind, go now!"


    Yin whips her head around, her gaze drifting from Gaoul''s broken leg to his sun tanned face. Tears pool in both their eyelids, both afraid of what might come. He wouldn''t outrun it anyway, the best choice was to stand and fight. She steels herself, nodding sternly as she ushers their children to the back door.


    His family quickly running to the escape tunnels, Gaoul exits onto their porch to face the construct. He knows that it''s a losing battle, but he can''t let his family be hurt. He will do whatever it takes to protect them.


    As Gaoul makes his way towards the construct, he can hear the sound of other farmers rushing to defend their farms. He knows that he''s not alone in this fight, and real help is fast on its way in the form of the guardians living on the edges of the fields. He just hopes that they may hold long enough to see it.

 Chapter 5

    Gaoul watches the incoming construct with an intense gaze, never wavering even as several more of the infernal machines burst out from the treeline opposing the village. As they close in, he flicks a latch near the top of his cane, placing a hand on either side of the latch. Metallic shrieks filled the air as their limbs dug into the earth and uprooted the crops he and his fellow farmers invested so much time and labor into. Gone, just like that and so close to harvest.


    The sight pains Gaoul, and he let out a roar of defiance as one of the leading construct¡¯s arms lashed out towards him. With a flash, he unsheathes a sword hidden in the walking stick, a sharp crack accompanying his motion as the sword energizes itself the moment it is out of its sheath. He raises his arm to meet the construct, and with a quick slice severs the appendage. Cold, black metal writhes on the ground for a few moments, orange liquid spraying out from the severing point before it comes to rest. Another limb follows up which Gaoul only barely has time to parry, the force of the blow sending him careening back into his porch, knocking him against the door which emits a loud crack but still holds, and leaving him dazed.


    While he tries to recover, several farmers seize the opening as the construct is distracted by Gaoul, running up to one side of its supporting limbs and hacking at them with axes, scythes, and whatever else they could get their hands on. The machine sweeps them away as one of its supports gives out causing it to crash to the ground.


    Before they can get back up and begin dealing any real damage to the thing¡¯s main housing, the rest of the pack catches up. A couple unlucky farmers who were knocked towards the pack are attacked by the constructs, only two of the metal creatures descending on them as the rest continue towards the main gathering of people. Only one of them, a woman, is still conscious and actively struggling against the stabbing tentacles, saving her life as one of them aiming for her head only manages to clip her hand which elicits a cry of pain


    The group of farmers pelt the constructs attacking their kith and kin with javelins and darts, someone finally having opened the emergency warchest in the grainhouse near the center of the fields. Metal-tipped projectiles pierce into the things, diverting one¡¯s attention to the main contingent as the farmer trapped underneath scrambles to safety, part of her hand missing. The other is not so lucky. No cries emanate from under the construct as a needle pierces into his chest, the construct pumping his system full of chemicals, not unlike a nightmarish metallic spider.


    Gaoul recovers, his target now diverted to the main group as it smashes and sweeps at them, kicking up massive plumes of earth and plant matter with each attack. He snaps off one of the orbs on his belt, pulling a small pin before tossing it into the center of the pack of constructs. With a sound of a dozen whips cracking, it detonates and several thin metal tendrils slice through anything in its radius, felling several of the machines.


    A farmer Gaoul recognizes, Elissa, snaps her head in his direction, flashing a wolfish grin at him.


    ¡°I thought we used all of those back at the manor! Glad to see I was mistaken,¡± she says, thrusting a spear through the sensors of a downed construct.


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    ¡°Thought I¡¯d save a few for the inevitable,¡± he grimaces, gripping his house¡¯s porch railing as he assesses his injuries. Something broken in his bad hand, some sprains and some major bruising along his back where he impacted the house but otherwise he is okay.


    By now the constructs have met with the band of farmers, sending probing attacks and lurking around the tight-knit cluster of defiant furry bipeds. They keep trying to separate the group, but any time one of their own is picked out the others gang up to defend and return them to the formation. Elissa offers her shoulder to Gaoul who takes it gladly as she helps him to the group. One construct notices them and bears down upon the duo. Its shell is marked and pitted with several projectiles still embedded within the metal as it knocks them over and looms over Gaoul, its remaining non-supporting tentacle rising up to finish him.


    As the arm comes down atop Gaoul, a blindingly bright streak originating from the village slams into the front portion of the construct, frying the codex housed deep within its shell. The machine immediately slumps, collapsing just in front of Gaoul, his breathing ragged as he scrambles backwards.


    Another burst of light hits another construct, immediately decommissioning the monstrosity.


    Two for two, Gaoul thinks as dust plumes up where the machine hits the ground, Definitely Preen and Retisin. He sighs with relief as the formation of his fellow farmers takes on a more defensive grouping, only deflecting any attacks thrown at them instead of trying to capitalize on any downed constructs.


    Several hundred meters away, Retisin methodically fires his staff into each construct, Preen announcing ¡°effective hit¡± with each blast as he regards the fight with binoculars.


    Before long the constructs are all eliminated, but not without casualties. The man knocked unconscious in the opening charge is gone, leaving behind a young child who lost his parents on that fateful night two winters ago. In addition, a couple of elder farmers, lovers and friends who were beloved by the villagers wholesale. Their tarts and pies were always welcome at the various festivals held before going on the run, not to mention their senses of humor and many of the farmers were already shedding tears at the loss. Some were arguing while others were recovering javelins and materials from the downed constructs.


    ¡°It¡¯s not safe here anymore, it is only a matter of time before they come back in force now that they know where we are!¡± One farmer barks, his eyes wide with fear.


    ¡°Nowhere is safe as long as our pursuers do not have the girl,¡± another replies calmly. ¡°and it is unacceptable for them to have her. You know this just as much as any of us, that¡¯s what we all accepted when we decided to flee.¡±


    The first goes quiet, his head hung in solemn contemplation. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he states, ¡°I can only imagine what damage they could do with her.¡± He smacks his fist into an upturned palm before continuing, ¡°Regardless, it is not safe here any more. We need to stay on the move, that much is apparent to me.¡±


    They all go quiet at that, most nodding their heads in agreement.


    ¡°We cannot settle down anymore,¡± one adds.


    ¡°We are farmers, dammit! What are we to do when have no fields to sow for our food?¡± Another asks.


    Elissa clears her throat, garnering the attention of the group. ¡°It is not our place to decide,¡± she starts, ¡°the elder council will decide what is to be done.¡±

 Chapter 6

    Maracles and Loffin perch in the canopy right on the forest¡¯s edge, scanning the fields for any breakaways from the battle in the distance.


    ¡°Watch them closely, see how they hold their weight. It¡¯s difficult to balance all the way up there. When they get knocked off balance, they¡¯re vulnerable to attack while they try to compensate with all those legs,¡± Maracles directs her apprentice as he nods along. The two watch the battle in the field with a monocular. The breakaway in front slams into a farmer who just came out of his shed, pitchfork in hand. He¡¯s knocked to the ground as the construct sets on him.


    Loffin¡¯s hands clenched tight into fists. He declares ¡°I¡¯ll make them pay for all of this,¡± his body and voice shaking as the machine searches for new victims even as the man lays dying beneath it.


    ¡°That won¡¯t do, Loffin. Your pain is too fresh, for now you must observe.¡± He turns to her, snarling. ¡°I wish to see those who harry us even now suffer as much as you do, but you¡¯ll only succeed against their weapons when you can think like their weapons. These are simply machines, like a water wheel or a loom. It is unfeeling, and your anger will cloud your judgment, you¡¯ll make mistakes you would normally never make. You can count on those things to do what they were designed to do: take and kill.¡±


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    Loffin wills his body still, his head snapping back to the fields. Drawing in a deep breath he gazes intently into the battle before them.


    She gives him a stern look for a moment before indicating a hill closer to the farms. ¡°We will move up when Preen and Retisin come to blows with the constructs. Only observe. Do. Not. Attack. We are required in reserve lest any constructs manage to slip through into the village proper.¡± Maracles squeezes his shoulder once, the pair nodding once before falling into a tense silence. Loffin thumbs at his knife¡¯s holster, clasping and unclasping the latch as they wait. He shifts, drawing in a breath, ¡°Then, can I fight?¡± he inquires.


    Miracles frowns, pondering the question for a moment. She levels with his gaze, ¡°Be wary for what you wish, young one.¡±