ACT 3

  THE FACTORY

  The Way of the Mark

  Tenet #4

  “Protect the Innocent. Use the Way for Defense, not for Offense unless the innocent are threatened.”

  43. IT BEGINS

  From my position, crouching in a stand of scrubby bushes on a high ridge, The Factory stood in a large valley standing before us, a place we now considered the scourge of the land. This building in front of me dwarfed the previous building we'd attacked, from which we'd liberated a number of mageslaves.

  The bulk of the large building below us stood so tall that its castle-like spires almost reached the level of the ridge on which we perched. The sun fell over the mountains, and streaks of purple and red glazed the sky and the few remaining clouds above us. The majority of the valley now stood in shadow as the day moved swiftly and surely into the evening hours.

  Our men made up many names for it on our long hike into the mountains, this time from the North, including “The Source of Our Pain,” and “Drought Maker.”

  The hike took us a couple of days to approach slowly, and in total secret. Despite that, we were expected.

  Looking down into the narrow valley, Mage Beacons dotted the entire landscape, just as our scouts had described. Several beacons actually sat quite close to us, in fact, just below our position. At the entrance to the valley, tall wooden gates cut off all foot access to The Factory, and there stood another dozen Mage Beacons.

  We’d banned the use of magic as we made our way here, knowing well that Uof’s soldiers would be alert to any and all magic use in the area. However, I hoped that our plan would take care of that concern. Still, even though they didn't know when we would approach—the Motorized still knew we would attack at some point. It was a matter of time.

  Stone walls encircled the entire factory building, standing about the height of two men. Small outposts stood atop the stonewalls every twenty yards or so all the way around. Soldiers camped inside the walls, appearing to fill every possible space between the stonewalls and The Factory itself, while even more of Vale’s thugs and soldiers camped outside the walls and filled up the rest of the valley.

  Our scouts had estimated Uof’s army itself at over five hundred men, but looking down at them now and seeing their cook fires throughout the valley, the army seemed ever so much bigger and more intimidating.

  As darkness fell, the soldiers below started cooking their dinners and the chatter of the men was loud as it filtered up into the evening air. We watched as some busied themselves with various activities, digging defensive trenches, carrying supplies to and for, or readying dinner.

  In addition, I saw something I had not expected.

  Inside the four outposts atop the corners of the stone walls surrounding the Factory building, large cannon-like weapons stood anchored and ready to fire, facing outward. I’d not seen anything like cannons in many years. We would have to keep an eye on the aim of those weapons. They'd prepared for an attack from every direction. These were clearly not meant just for show either—these were weapons meant to fire into the midst of attackers with meaty explosions of fire and shot.

  We could not allow one of those cannons to land its sights on any of us. A new wrinkle to complicate our plan.

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  If we attacked this Factory head-on, just marched down and volleyed spells at the walls, the army, and The Factory itself, the battle surely wouldn’t last more than a few minutes in total.

  This put pressure on the plan we hoped to carry out. Would it work? Or would it wipe out every free mage left in the world in one fell swoop?

  Over recent weeks, I’d contemplated just leaving Vale altogether. After all, we could just send these newly trained mages and Spellcasters out into the world to help those last people who remained, to help the villages barely scraping by but still alive, few though they were. The mages we had now could go out and help all those barely hanging onto their lives, those who desperately needed saving.

  I shook the thoughts from my head. That would come later, I hoped. This had to be done first, otherwise, helping others would be pointless in the long run. This was where the drought and the persecution had begun, and if we were to survive, this is where it must end.

  In the last two weeks, we'd trained without ceasing. The Spellcasters trained until they knew their spell creation, and their specialized individual spells, inside and out. They'd each created multiple simple spells until each one of them could create a spell that worked well and with the right level of accuracy and results. We tried to create unique artifacts, imbued with spells, for each of the mages, so they had some options when battle inevitably came.

  The discipline and hard work they’d showed was impressive, but still, the Spellcasters were largely inexperienced.

  However, we didn’t have the time to wait and practice any longer.

  Every day that passed, the world grew more desert-like, the hybrid machines and weapons drew more water from the air seeing it used up and sent to the Ether, never to return. I theorized that eventually, the oceans and the lakes and streams would replenish themselves once the pillaging of moisture from the air finally stopped, but we had no guarantees that this was true.

  With that in mind, I’d outlined my plan, a part of which involved each of the mages creating at leastaone new spell—some of them created more than that—each of which would be a unique and important contribution to the battle ahead.

  As we entered this phase of the planning, we separated the Mages into groups based on the types of spells I thought we would need. Once assigned, and briefed, each of the Mages moved off on their own, working in the hills or far off into the plains as they created secret spells only they would know how to cast, thus preserving as much power as possible.

  Dirk and his soldiers, all grew harder and stronger, and more adept in the skills of warriors—and their ranks continued to swell. They worked hard and out in the open sun on the plains where it was hot and dry. We’d moved to a new location a few days after the surprise attack, and our camp grew more alive every day with the clang and clamor of sparring and training.

  We were preparing in earnest for what we knew would be a decisive battle, one way or another. And the odds weren't encouraging.

  Percy came through and fulfilled the mission we'd given him.

  He and his young friends came back every night with bags full of jewelry and rare stones, gold, and ivory. I didn’t ask them where they got it all, but these resources would outfit each of our Spellcasters to give us as much powerful matter as we needed for what came next. In addition to rare matter, they collected motorized weapons and tools everywhere they found them.

  After a week of their crime spree inside of Vale, the back of our house featured a six-foot tall pile of motorized machinery that we set up to be destroyed one piece after another, and then we burned every wooden part, seeking to eradicate the spell embedded within it. The young ones even managed to bring back several motorized cycles, which impressed everyone, as very few of these cycles existed.

  Some of our scouts reported back the concerns of the citizens and soldiers in Vale. The Motorized thugs sought out the source of the crime ring that had stolen from the markets, shops, and yes, even people’s private residences.

  There was talk in the taverns and halls. What was to come? Could there be mages left in the city stealing all our rare matter? Uof had put out word that we had been defeated, touting propaganda that no mages yet lived, but the people of Vale knew something was still going on. If only they knew that the thieves were some of the homeless young rebels who crowded their alleys and trash heaps and alleyways.

  I knew this was painful for the people of Vale, but it was necessary for our broader mission.

  Ruath’s Valeguard began to crack down on anyone they suspected of being capable of this theft and our spies and thieves and scouts were forced to step more carefully. But after ten days of the crime spree, it was too late, and we had all the matter that we needed.

  Now, however, as I crouched above the true Factory, I looked down on the size of Uof’s army, the stonewalls, the Mage Beacons, canons, and the gigantic, imposing factory building itself, my doubts returned. This was actually, the largest building I'd ever seen in all my years. I worried we were so beyond outmatched, our attacks would be met with an immediate counterattack that would destroy us. But I had to remind myself yet again: Who else would come? What other hero could help us? There was no one.

  As the gloaming hour started to give in and transition from evening into the night, I knew all our preparation had gotten us to this point.

  It was time.