The Foundry | Part Two | Chapter Twenty-Four
the next chapter of my forthcoming novel
The Foundry
by Daphne Garrido
Part Two | Rebuilt; Refound; Reclaimed
Part Three | Dominion
Chapter Twenty-Four
Nothing could’ve prepared Echo or Rory for sight of that near empty classroom. Both of them, in their separate imaginings of victorious return, had believed there’d be such raucous revelry for their own personal glories. Even as Echo felt herself leaving the simulation, and despite its lack of conclusion, she was anticipating some kind of celebration for the excellence put on display in their defiance of one another.
A half dozen students remained in the bleacher seating, two pairs were holding each other, and the other was in deepest conversation. The administration was absent in its entirety.
Leopold was first recognizable face Echo which came into focus. He’d seemingly emerged from an ether of her own confusion as she’d come-to in the hardchair. Behind his blurry visage witnessed by her eyes, across the stage of that classroom in which she’d only just refound herself, Echo could see Rory with tears in her eyes. They weren’t leaving their seat.
When she’d finally brought her attention fully onto his most concerned gaze, Leopold told her immediately, with no flair of emotion to the words beyond that intuited from his dreadful energy so deep within.
“We’ve been attacked.”
“What?” Echo asked him in purest reaction, having heard the words, but failing to find capability within herself for processing them.
“We were attacked,” Leopold affirmed a bit slower.
There was a surging in her blood, some crashing-down of that importance she’d long held-up regarding this feud taken part in with Rory, even without a shred more detail to the news. Still, she’d needed to know.
“Where?”
Leopold had looked at her liked she should’ve already realized it. Usually, Echo would have, but this was too much to feel.
“Here,” is all he’d told her.
Another few longest seconds, to be so unbelievably stretched in remembrance by the breadth of processing fit within them, saw Echo looking between both Leopold and Rory, along with a passing glance out towards those even fewer peers still present.
‘This is over,’ is what she’d thought in her head, only hoping it would prove as true for Rory as that notion felt inside herself.
“Rory!” She’d called out, stripping from the devices of her hardseat, and bringing herself to rise with a helping hand of Leopold, noticing a welling of emotion inside herself from simply facing the precipice of speaking to them in some form of earnest compassion.
“Something terrible happened!”
Rory’s eyes portrayed more depth than Echo’s mind would know how to comprehend. There was something changed in them; the rage was gone which had been so felt before.
“We’ve been attacked!”
Those final words had done more. An activation had seemingly been bestowed upon Rory, as evident by that most immediately visible reaction it caused. Their grip had tightened upon the armrest of the hardchair. The sense of defeat which had been laced into their body language — itself quite beyond what Echo would’ve believed capable to witness from Rory; such a fighter to the end — appeared to burn away in some rising fire of purpose.
They’d gotten right up and taken heading directly past Echo and Leopold. In that approach there’d been a second or two of eye contact shared between the women. Rory had gifted some sense of acknowledgment, leaving an impression within Echo through that look alone. It shattered a holding in Echo which had been rock-solid since her defeat at their hands in this place, and even moreso since being denied acceptance and demeaned in her identity so completely.
Rory saw who Echo really was now; an equal.
“You two come with me,” was all she said as she’d passed them by.
Echo had felt her heart jump. A few tears escaper her welling eyes as she’d looked to Leopold and motioned for him to follow. He’d been smiling at her larger than she’d seen from the man in longer than she could remember. He knew how badly she’d needed that.
The Council Chamber was a newest sight to Echo’s eyes. She was proud to be stepping under that great archway, finally finding her way into the splendorous meeting place of Foundry administration for which invitation was so highly sought. There was no surprise within Echo that Rory had become one of those privileged to walk beneath its domed ceiling, where that famous mural depicted the cosmos in weavings of sacred geometry by such strokes of genius.
Orator Coriseau, Investigator Harrison, and Instructor Salus were standing with a few other of the faculty, along with one Ekara Oaksmith. They’d been deep in discussion and quite unaware of these newest human presences beside them.
It was Vladmir Salus who’d seen them, the hardened war-veteran he was, himself most activated by the situation. Echo had never witnessed such wholeness of spirit from the man.
“I’m glad you’re here.” He’d said to the three of them, making sure to share his eye contact equally, some assurance he was understood to mean them all within it. Still, Echo had felt most touched his gaze was locked upon her own when he’d begun the statement.
Rory asked cuttingly, “What happened?”
“We don’t know who, or how, or why,” soon to be Commander Salus had told.
“Atreya’s been attack. All three islands.”
There were glances shared between them. Even Rory had included Echo in her own acknowledgment of that newfound gravity so apparent to the situation. This was the last thing any of them would have ever expected. Boreál‘s previous era of peace had extended for so long, not one of these trained warriors would’ve believed they’d fight in a real battle one day.
Within those looks between them was a question, and one which Vladmir had clearly picked up on, as he’d taken it upon himself to answer preemptively.
“Nobody’s left down there.”
Plans were being drawn by the administration, and tasks slowly set amongst all of The Foundry’s plethora of human comrades. That group of three led by Rory into the Council Chamber had been set to one such task, proceeding from that meeting with leadership to enlist the accompaniment of both Alan and Cameron in standing beside them for its execution.
They’d rallied all initiates in the dining hall, every pilot who’d not been previously briefed or occupied by other means, and each last rank-and-file human supporting the inner workings of this great machine of higher learning who they could find to invite. The room was packed as Rory had spoken to them all.
Echo felt prouder of herself in that moment than she’d imagined might come from a situation of such horrendous implication, regardless of the fact she was only standing there, and especially on the heels of most terrible doings by her broken-hearted will. It had everything to do with reclaiming some place beside Rory.
“You’ve heard it — we know you have!” Was how they’d started.
“And I’m telling you myself, right now. We have been attacked.”
There was a murmur through the crowd which Rory would not give time to linger and grow to chaos.
“It’s worse than you imagine. What’s happened is beyond anything, any one of us has ever had to face. The cities of Atreya are gone. Every person who was on that planet is dead. Our current estimations show that no human will walk on those shores for a thousand years.”
Rory let the crowd have a moment with that, glancing over only to Echo for a precious moment, some sadness in it from what had passed there, to double-take from in surprise to see them staring back with tears in their eyes of far different meaning, such awe and respect felt in their presence with her.
Alan had a hand on Echo’s shoulder as he’d caught the tail end of that same glance, nodding an unspoken acknowledgment of respect to Rory. This was her show now, they all knew that. Cameron too, who’d still not found the will to speak or see Echo quite yet.
Just as Commander Salus had in the Council Chamber. Soon to be Lieutenant Rory Tyrell saw to anticipate the question of that crowd and answer ahead of its asking.
She’d shouted it from her chest, “This is war!”
That’s part two. :)