Tale of The Broken Sword

Chapter Forty Five : Fires of Freedom

2nd March, AD 1657

Veillrichtstadt, Ansteig Empire

The unreliable light of the lantern carried by a resistance fighter wandered around aimlessly on the walls of the tunnel, disappearing completely when the lantern is pointed in a distance. There was deep darkness ahead, and it gave Everent a deep chill running down his spine. But the rest of them wouldn’t feel anything out of it. Perhaps the darkness was already part of their life or their eyes were already accustomed to the sheer abyss of the tunnels.

The iron wheels of their railway cart squeaked with a whining and a melancholic sound. Everent looked at a fighter standing at the end of the large cart platform; he was starting to get tired and tired already; he laboured and laboured but the handle, moving down and then returning to its original place, turning the wheels again.

Finally, the commander had said, without turning around:

“Alright, guys. Come down and change places. We’re reaching the southern station.”

The outermost Resistance cordon was behind them now, the flickering light of their fires had vanished as they venture deeper into the depths of the tunnels. They were in the territory of the Resistance now. Even though the journey from here to the heart of the Resistance was relatively safe, danger was not expected to come from the front.

They were underneath the city, in a complex system of abandoned railway tunnels leading in and out of the city’s few main districts. And danger could be lurking around them, above them, in the airshafts or at the sides of multiple tunnel branches behind sealed doors and abandoned utility rooms.

“Come over here, the guys are busy over there so don’t bother them. We guys would like to have a chat with you.” One of them looked at Everent attentively, gesturing for him to closer over to them.

For Everent, this might be the moment where he could ask some information out of these people, in hopes that it would bring him out of this nation, alive. Now, every piece of information about what will happen beyond Veillrichtstadt had great meaning for him. He then hurried to get up from the railings and, transferring his given rifle from his back to his chest, he took up his place behind the cart.

With a little shove, the wheels moved again, and started singing their plaintive song. The group moved forward, and the commander was looking ahead, peering watchfully into the darkness because not everything was audible enough.

“I’m interested to know, how are things going in Aurelia?” The commander then held back his rifle and sat back on the railing. “I heard that their army are gaining momentum and are pushing towards Veillrichtstad shortly after the fall of Astagphearine.”

“They are?” Everent replied, surprised. “You mean that the border city has fallen?”

“You don’t know?” The fighter snorted. “You’ve got to know all the information sometimes. But listen: sometimes there is no exact information... We received some data yesterday but everything is out of date by evening and you can’t rely on it the next day. People took so long to relay messages that it often happens that the information was not needed anymore or it’s already unreliable. We’ve tried using telegram, but those bastards would’ve tapped into our channels and knew exactly what we’re planning. Besides, like Aurelia, radio technology is discouraged for public uses. No one knows why. Perhaps there were scientific explanations for this.”

“Anyways,” Another fighter resolutely turned the conversation back to its original direction. “Do your people know the existence of the Resistance?”

“Not really,” Everent replied, lowering his head. “Most of them were ignorant of the War, calling it a waste of men and resources. So they went on with their daily lives, even the battle had reached to the edge of their own city.”