The Portalis Herald Times has received information which makes it disturbingly clear that the initial confrontation with the so-called “Sharonians” was far more catastrophic than the citizens of the Union had been led to believe.
As previously reported in these pages, the first contact between Arcana and the violently aggressive “Sharonians” ended in a total slaughter. Magister Gadrial Kelbryan escaped death by a hair’s breadth and Commander of One Hundred Sir Jasak Olderhan, only son and heir to the Duke of Garth Showma, was nearly killed when an entire platoon of his company of the 2nd Andaran Temporal Scouts was butchered. He barely escaped the ambush with his life, a tiny remnant of his shattered platoon, and Magister Gadrial.
As our readers know, the entire remaining strength of his company was killed or captured in a nighttime sneak attack through the portal between Mahritha and the universe which has since been dubbed “Hell’s Gate.” What our readers did not know, however, was that Hundred Olderhan had succeeded in capturing two of the murderous Sharonians alive following the original, savage attack on his platoon and had been ordered to return them with them to New Arcana for interrogation. Despite some concern over freedom of information, this journal must concede that it was proper for that information to be withheld from the public in the interest of security. What this journal has only now learned, however, is what else was withheld.
Magister Halathyn vos Dulainah, a national hero in Ransar, founder of the New Arcanan Academy of Theoretical Magic, and the most Gifted magister Arcana has ever known, has been foully murdered. The unarmed magister, present with Hundred Olderhan’s company purely as a civilian consultant-without uniform or weapon-was shot down without pity or mercy when the brutal Sharonian attack overran the 2nd Andarans. Armed with weapons even more terrifying and destructive than initial reports had suggested-weapons capable of hurling explosive spells through a portal-the attack overwhelmed our troops almost immediately. And as Magister Halathyn attempted to aid a wounded soldier, one of the attackers cold-bloodedly shot the elderly, unarmed magister with one of their hellish weapons.
Despite the brutality of the attack, whose full details have not been officially acknowledged even now, Governor Nith mul Gurthak attempted to establish diplomatic contact with the Sharonians in hopes of avoiding additional bloodshed. As our readers will recall from earlier articles, he directed Rithmar Skirvon and Uthik Dastiri or the Union Arbitration Commission to seek a truce with the Sharonians for the purpose of negotiating some peaceful alternative to the carnage which appeared to be their preferred mode of contact. Our readers will also recall that those negotiations failed and active operations were subsequently renewed.
What we did not know, and have only now learned, is precisely how those negotiations failed. The exact details remain unclear, but the Times Herald has learned that the murdered bodies of every member of our diplomats’ security detail were discovered-left lying where they fell and badly burned by a fire clearly set by the Sharonian murderers to cover their own flight from retribution. The body of Envoy Dastiri was also recovered, and Army forensic Healers have determined that he was shot directly between the eyes at very short range by one of the devilish Sharonian weapons. Perhaps even worse-and far more ominous-the body of Envoy Skirvon has not been recovered, leaving one to wonder what still worse fate may have befallen him.
In the meantime, personal messages beginning to arrive from the handful of prisoners from the 2nd Andarans who have been rescued tell grim tales of torture and brutal mistreatment in which even rudimentary Healing was denied out heroic wounded. In other news just received from the front-
It went on and on, article after article, lie after lie, distortion after distortion. Shaylar finally lifted wet and streaming eyes to meet Gadrial’s stricken gaze.
“But it’s not true!”
“I know,” Gadrial bit out. “That’s why Jasak and his father are so furious. They don’t even know where the Times Herald got its information. There are more facts in those articles-distorted, twisted, and perverted, but still with a kernel of fact-than anyone in the Union government’s officially heard even now! The Times Herald’s always been one of the journals which feels out-universe exploration should be managed by civilian agencies rather than the military. If the Duke-or anyone else in the current Government-tries to lean on them for their sources, they’ll clam up and refuse to say a word. And if the Duke insists they reveal those sources, they’ll positively welcome the chance to be sent to jail until they give up the names. Which they won’t do, of course. The Union’s freedom of the press laws would protect them in the end, and they’d gain a huge amount of prestige for their ‘principled stand.’
“The fact that someone obviously fed the Times Herald all this distortion is bad enough, but even if Jasak and the Duke manage to get the truth out, it may not help. Worse, without some official news from mul Gurthak or someone out-universe from Mahritha, they can’t even tell anyone what the truth is because they don’t know what’s happening themselves. Not really. And other journals and news outlets have already pounced on the Time Herald’s reportage. It’s spreading like wildfire, all over New Arcana-and probably Arcana Prime and all the rest of the multiverse by now, as well! So in a lot of ways, it doesn’t even matter what the truth is. The damage is done, and the Duke doesn’t think it can be undone.”
She paused, her expression miserable, while the stunned Sharonians stared at her. Then she squared her shoulder and bit her lip.
“And I’m afraid there’s more, as well,” she told them in an utterly miserable tone. “Please get dressed, both of you. There’s something else you have to see.”
“What?” Jathmar bit out.
“It’s-” Gadrial sighed and shook her head. “The Duchess saw this coming, I’m afraid. Saw the potential for it. That’s why she put you here, in rooms whose windows overlook the garden, rather than the street.”
Those words sent a shudder of fright through Shaylar. What was out there, in the street they couldn’t see? She looked at Jathmar for a moment, and then the two of them returned to their bedroom and dressed in silence.
Gadrial led them through the house, until Jasak and his father met them in a corridor near the front of the vast townhouse. The duke spoke briskly.
“I don’t want you to be too alarmed, when you look out there. The security system is on and armed. Nobody can actually reach the house, not physically and not with a malicious spell. You’re under my protection,” he added, “and I’m serious about that duty.”
He looked back and forth between them for several seconds, his expression hard and determined. Then he motioned courteously for them to follow him, and Shaylar groped for Jathmar’s hand as he led them into a large and beautifully appointed drawing room or parlor. The duchess was already there, standing beside a tall, curved window that overlooked the street at the front of the house. They were a full story above that street, looking down into it, and a mutter of sound reached them, rising and falling like a distant sea. It was too indistinct for Shaylar to determine what it was, but it set her teeth on edge. The sense of danger-and her throbbing headache-worsened drastically, and the duchess turned toward them, her expression grave. She held out one hand.
“Come, stand beside me,” she said gently.