The Colorless Land

Chapter 39: The Walls Close In

She sat down, but her eyes continued to flit towards the door whenever she heard a sound.

~ ~ ~

"Commander."

Champion looked up from the telescope she had used to observe the city. All seemed peaceful so far. No one had spotted them yet.

"All fighters are in position," her right-hand man said, striding up to her. "We are ready to begin the takeover."

Champion checked the time. All according to plan.

"Good," she said, rising from her knees. "All forces, enter stage two."

If things went on as planned, by sunset the city would be under their flag.

~ ~ ~

Soon afterwards a boat set sail from the coast and circled the city to look like it was approaching the havens from the east. It looked perfectly innocuous, a plain fisher-boat bearing no flag, operated by figures in gray garments that didn't show their faces. It landed at a free dock, and the figures went off board. No one seemed to pay them much heed.

Evariel was still sitting at the window, but now he had stopped staring into the city and taken to watching the coast instead. The havens were lively, but in a way they were boring. Nothing special seemed to happen. The Elodians were going about their life as usual. Outside of the inner city the impending civil war had yet to affect them.

At first he noticed nothing unusual about the fisher-boat landing at the havens. Yet more people coming and going, even if this was a bit of an odd time for fishers to return. And without fish on board, too. Not that he knew much about it. He hadn't grown up around any oceans after all.

His eyes roamed on, and then suddenly they stopped. Flitted back to the figures emerging from the ship. Something about them seemed familiar. He squinted his eyes.

Gray cloaks. Plain, simple, of ordinary fabric made by human hands. Was it the cloaks that looked familiar? He might have seen them before, but they were so unremarkable that he doubted he would have remembered them.

But then what—

Evariel froze. Suddenly he understood what had seemed familiar about this group of strangers. It wasn't their garments.

It was the way they moved.

"Colorless," he burst out, leaping from the windowsill to run towards his companions. "Everyone! The Colorless are here!"

Edmian grew ghostly pale. Jolette stood in front of him as if to shield him. Saryana's hand sought the hilt of her sword, closing around it as if searching security.

"Where?" she asked.

"At the havens."

"How many?"

"I didn't count them. They're heading into the city."

Saryana's eyes moved wildly. Then understanding dawned on her face, and then, barely a second later, utter blank-minded horror.

"They're taking it over," she said. "They're using the empty throne to try and take over the country. If they're headed for the palace—" She shook her head, cutting herself off. "A plan," she muttered. "We need to stop them! Is there a map of this city somewhere?"

With hasty strides she marched out of the guest-room to search for the innkeeper. A moment later her head popped back in. "Nobody leaves the house," she said, suddenly sounding perfectly cool-headed, a commander heading into battle. "Evariel, keep watching them. I want every detail."