The Second Archon War: Comedia Glacialis 17

Comedia Glacialis 17: A Martial Theme Begins to Play

Provideniya Bay Airport was little more than a strip of asphalt and a few small huts, set between mountains next to the sea. Typically, the sort of flights it serviced were small single-engine craft, not a Boeing 737. It was also completely closed to foreign flights, but a special exception had been made this day. 

Bronya watched as the plane flew in, resting on the throne she’d ordered constructed for her. It was an ornately carved wooden chair on a raised platform at the end of the runway, but she’d covered it in frost to give it the proper aspect. She watched as the American airplane came to a halt, her Dancer and the Servant riding atop it. They both jumped from the back of the plane, going to the side entrance, where stairs were already being wheeled over. 

The door to the plane popped open, and a disheveled girl stood there in the portal. She looked out from the door, biting her lip nervously. Bronya hid a smile. It had been pathetically easy to manipulate Riley. She had searched the world for the greatest bio-tinker around, and Riley had been the one she’d chosen to cast as her Pater. The girl was desperately lonely and in search of a family, and so, Bronya had provided her with dreams of one. All it had taken was for her Thief to establish a connection, and after that, things had proceeded exactly according to her script. 

Instead of waiting for the stairs the stagehands were bringing, the Dancer began to construct a staircase of water. Taking her Servant’s hand, she glided up the flight to where Riley stood trembling and nervous, looking at the Dancer with wide eyes. 

Come, child. I am Anastasia the Dancer. This is Thoma the Servant. We welcome you to your new home, Riley Grace Davis. 

Tears filled the child’s eyes, and she eagerly embraced the Dancer. “Are…are you my new family?!”

Of course. You shall be my beloved little sister. But now, it is time to meet our Sovereign Mother.

With great trepidation, Riley accepted Anasasasia’s hand, walking down the watery steps to where the Tsaritsa sat, waiting. 

This was all scripted, of course. Broyna stood as they approached, coming down from her stage to kneel before Riley and embrace her with warm arms. “Welcome, child. Let us dry your tears. No more shall you weep, for you shall remain ever at my side.”

Riley was blubbering now. She was quite young, only ten winters. And yet, she bore the burden of enormous power. Even as she embraced Riley, Bronya reached into the girl’s soul, where the demonic parasite had bonded with her. She grasped the creature, freezing it in place. Slowly, carefully, she dragged the entire beast into Riley while it was still alive. Then, delicately, she grafted the creature completely onto Riley’s being.

Gasping, Riley stiffened, her eyes glowing with a blue light as her soul was rewoven. The poor thing would no longer be human, of course. Much like her Prince or Dancer, Riley was now a hybrid of demon and human. That wasn’t what really mattered. What mattered was that her powers were not only amplified but now completely under the control of the being who had once been the mortal girl Riley Davis, known as Bonesaw. 

And Riley was absolutely loyal to the Tsaritsa. Which meant that all that power now acted according to Bronya’s direction, and no others. 

Sealing the act with a kiss on Riley’s forehead, Bronya stood, gently caressing Riley’s face as the girl shivered in the cold. Extending a hand, a thick coat was placed in Bronya’s hands, and she wrapped it about Riley. “No longer will the world know you as Bonesaw. You shall be my Pater, dearest Riley. Now come. Take the stage with me.”

“But…Pater means Father, doesn’t it?” Riley asked, clearly confused. “I’m a girl…”

Bronya’s lips quirked slightly. She would have to tell the child of her beloved Knave one day. “It is a jest. One few will grasp, but I find it amusing. And, I know who else you have brought with you, Pater. Let us ascend that you may call your children to you.”

Squaring her shoulders under the mantle of her greatcoat, Riley slipped her hand into Bronya’s, and strode up onto the stage alongside her. There, she was met by Kollei, who also knelt to embrace the girl. 

“Welcome, Riley. I’m Kollei. You can think of me as your big sister. If you ever need anything, just ask. Here, I brought you some food and hot tea,” Kollei said, pressing bread, salt, and a steaming cup of strong tea into Riley’s hands. 

“T-thank you,” Riley sniffled, gratefully accepting the food and scarfing it down. “I-I’ll be the best little sister ever!” 

“I’m sure you will,” Kollei agreed, standing and turning back to the plane. “But Mother tells me that you brought someone else with you?”

Bronya smiled, resting a hand on Riley’s shoulder. “Pater. Introduce us to the first of your…children.”

“Uh, you mean my creations?” Riley asked nervously.

“No, no. The others. The ones you brought with you,” Bronya coaxed. 

“How did you know? I…I just bought them because…HE wanted them,” Riley said, her face contorting in a snarl of anger. 

“And yet, you shall be a far better parent than that monster ever was,” Bronya said. She made a grand gesture towards the plane still sitting on the runway, the steps finally put in place. “So call forth your children, Pater, and found the new House of the Hearth.” 

Nodding, Riley a hand to her mouth and shouted, “Jean-Paul, Cherie! Come out!”

There was silence from the plane for a long moment, but Bronya had to hide a smile. She could sense them already on that plane, and one of them was already one of her children. After a few moments, a boy and a girl appeared at the head of the stairs. They were holding hands, and the boy held a Cryo Vision in his fist. The girl was the elder of the pair, around sixteen, while the boy was eleven or so. They walked slowly down the stairs, the boy’s face locked in a scowl, while the girl was smiling brightly. 

“Your Majesty! Such an honor to meet you!” the girl said, in French of all things, then knelt on the ground. The boy tried to resist it, but his sister pulled him down to kneel beside her, even as he glared at Bronya.

How adorable. They’d worked all this out together beforehand. 

“Child, I must caution you,” Bronya said, and Jean-Paul’s scowl deepened. “Not you, my son. You have already heard my voice and know it. Your sister. There are many you may manipulate with your abilities, young one. But do not attempt to use them on myself or my Harbingers.”

Cherie’s eyes widened and her smile slipped, freezing on her face in a rictus. 

“I-I don’t know what you mean, y-your Majesty, I-”

“Shut up. I told you it wouldn’t work. You know what happened to Nikos when he tried it on the Raiden Shogun,” Jean-Paul said, ripping his fingers out of his sister’s grasp. He stalked forward, standing before Bronya at the foot of the steps up to her stage. “Why should I serve you? What’s the difference between you and my sperm donor? Aren’t you just another monster?”

“Jean…come,” Bronya said, crooking a finger. The boy continued to glare at her, and Bronya laughed in delight. “Do not fear. You see the gift heaven has given you?”

He nodded, clutching his Vision to his chest. “It’s mine. You can’t have it.” 

“Jean, do you not recall who gave it to you?” Bronya coaxed. “I am not like Heartbreaker. I do not enslave those who serve me. They do so willingly. Nor do I simply take what I wish to indulge some base animalistic urges. What I seek is the same as what I told you. Do you remember?”

The scowl slipped from Jean-Paul’s face, and he looked down into the heart of his Vision. 

Scorned by the world, you are rejected because of your heritage. 

You seek only the warmth of Love, searching for the family that is all around you.

Heedless of the world, you walk only your own path, refusing to let your Heart melt.

Let my Love fill you, Child of Grief. 

 A tear rolled down Jean-Paul’s cheek, and he looked up, his face scrunching up as he began to sniffle. “Will you…will you reject us too?”

“No, Jean-Paul. Go. Stand with your Pater. You shall make a family with her. She shall make you and your siblings into the family you have always longed for,” Bronya promised. 

“Not just me and Cherie?” Jean-Paul asked, frowning. “I don’t like the others much. Not even Cherie. We just came because the Nine said we were their new recruits. I didn’t want to join, but Riley said if I went along she’d take me somewhere safe. Is that…here?”

“Of course it is,” Riley said, coming over and hugging Jean. They were about the same age, so it would be a bit odd for her to be Pater to children older than she was. But that was where the comedy in Bronya’s play came in. What was life without a hint of irony?

Bronya’s eyes tracked to Cherie, who was cowering and trying to make herself small, all the while she gently tried to tug on the emotional strings of those around her. The Dancer’s lips and firmed into a thin line, and her expression smoldered with anger. The Servant could not, of course, feel anything his mistress did not allow. Jean-Paul was largely immune thanks to his Vision, but was still mildly effected. But Pater…

“See to your charge, Pater. Her discipline is in your hands,” Bronya commanded. 

“Yes, your Majesty,” the new harbinger agreed. When she turned, her eyes began to glow with power, streams of cryo floating into the air as she rounded on Cherie. You were told to cease, my child. It seems you need discipline. 

“W-what!? N-no, I-I just-” Cherie stammered. She tried to rise to her feet, but Riley extended an arm, and chains of ice wrapped themselves about her.

“A laboratory has been prepared for you. Know that I have given you knowledge, see to it that you modify your daughter such that she can no longer defy the commands of her Pater or her Tsaritsa,” the Dancer growled. “And tell your children if they ever dare attempt to manipulate me again, I will make them dance to my tune forever more.”

Do not think to harm my children, Pater snapped back, even as she began to drag the weeping Cherie away. They are my family. I will make sure they have the love and discipline they need.

“Please, no, I’ll be good!” Cherie begged, but got nowhere. Her pleading eyes turned to Jean-Paul, and she extended a manacled hand. “Brother! Please!” 

“You should have listened, Cherie. You know what happens when Father gets angry. Now we have a new one. I hope you’re happy,” Jean-Paul said in disgust. 

Come, Jean-Paul. You will be a good boy, will you not? You must set a good example for your sister, Pater said as she hauled away Cherie. 

“Yes, father,” Jean-Paul said as respectfully as he could manage, falling in beside his new parent, even if she was his own age. 

Good, good. I’d hate to have to punish you. Now, now, Cherie. Don’t cry. I have some wonderful ideas on how to help you be a good girl! Don’t worry, I’m nothing like Jack…

With that, Pater disappeared into the workshop prepared for her, where the screams of her naughty children would be muffled. Soon, all of Jean-Paul and Cherie’s children would be gathered in. Such useful abilities their demon gave them. And, thanks to the fact that they all shared the same demon, once Pater had established mastery over it…well. They would bring the entire family together ere long. 

Quietly, Kollei stepped up beside Bronya. “Mother…this seems cruel. To make a girl like that a parent, and to treat orphans like that? I know they are not our people, but…”

“Ah, but they will be. I shall find the children of all nations and welcome them into the House of the Hearth, with Pater to care for them. What she does now to Cherie is…necessary. She must learn how to modify demons so that they no longer harm their hosts, and are instead subservient to them.”

“But still, to do so to children…can’t we be kinder, gentler?” Kollei asked, wincing at the faint sobs and screams that were carried on the wind. 

“Russia is not a gentle place. Nor is this world a kind one. A Pater must be harsh with their children, that the children may grow strong, and flourish. I, their Mother, will not always be here to guide her children. That is why my Harbingers must stand ready to shepherd humanity, should anything happen to me. And why you must harden your heart, Kollei, for one day, you will wear my crown.”

That made her daughter wince. “Mother, I…I don’t want…you’re a god! You should live for hundreds of years!”

“Even if I do, one day, I will fall, and you must rise. The world will ever need a Cryo Archon. If not one of my harsh mien. Now come. We have a war to begin,” Bronya said, rising from her throne. “Prepare my sleigh!” 

Kollei followed Bronya with heavy steps as they went to her sleigh, where her bears were already waiting to drive them back to Moscow. 

“Will it really be war, mother?” Kollei asked quietly. 

“Mayhaps not. But the visions I have seen in the ice tell me that it must be war. If one wishes to save the world, one must first bring it to heel. Much as Pater is doing with her wayward child, so I must do with mine. All the Russias must be gathered before the final day, that I may strike down Heaven’s usurper and free humanity from his terrible yoke,” Bronya said, taking a seat as Servent took up the sleigh’s reins and Kollei sat beside her. 

“And the alternative…is the end of the world?” Kollei asked, staring out into the grey skies as the Dancer sat across from her and the sleigh lifted off into the skies. 

“Worse. The end of all worlds. It is the death of all stories, the destruction of Fate itself. Should the Sustainer’s plan succeed and I birth his terrible children, more worlds will suffer the same fate. Which is why before I allow myself to succumb to him, I shall take my own life,” Bronya said calmly. 

Kollei looked sick, but she nodded. “I suppose…in the face of that…any measures…are justified.”

“Our prize is heaven, but our penalty is worse than death for all mankind,” the Dancer agreed. “In such times, we must do all we can to support our Tsaritsa.”

“Then…it must be war,” Kollei said, tears trickling down her cheeks. 

Bronya reached out, wiping away her daughter’s sorrow. “Weep now, my child. For later, you must have a heart of ice.”

Despite the festive Christmas decorations that covered Warsaw, Kollei saw little warmth in the city. The people went about with grim expressions on their faces, and there was a frosty chill in the air. The decorations brought her no joy, as Kollei knew that the mostly Catholic Poland had not converted to worship her mother in the Church of the Frozen Heart as most of Russia had. 

And, from reading her textbooks, she knew what her welcome was likely to be even before she had landed. The cold stares and dark looks that the locals gave her when her sleigh touched down only confirmed it. 

“Presenting her Imperial Highness, Princess Kollei Bronislavovna Snezhnaya!” the Prince barked, hand on his cavalry saber as he waved his hand, a carpet of ice spreading out before the sleigh as her Fatui guards knelt before her. 

“HAIL, TSARINA!” 

The Polish delegation was stone-faced and grim, a collection of government officials and capes that had come to the airport to ‘welcome’ Kollei and her embassy. Their leaders were a man and a woman Kollei recognized: Szlachtaks, and the Azure Witch. 

“Princess,” the Azure Witch said, nodding to her, but offering no obeisance . She did give a polite smile. “Welcome to Poland. I hope your visit is one of friendship and peace.”

Her giant of a companion was silent, his arms folded across this broad chest, a scowl on his face. He knew perfectly well why Kollei was here. They all did. 

“Thank you, Kruzchka. I bring an offer from my Mother, the Tsaritsa. One that I hope will unite our nations in Love,” Kollei said, continuing to follow the script her mother laid out, even if she knew it would end in sorrow and blood. 

That made Rozalyn’s face tighten. Her fingers went to a very prominent rosary around her neck, to which a golden crucifix was affixed. “I hope you know that unlike some, Poland will not abandon our God in favor of an anti-Christ.”

Kollei winced. Her mother had joined the Raiden Shogun on the list of Archons that the Vatican had denounced as Antichrists for her persecution of the Orthodox Church. For, once their fellow Christians had put aside their differences and taken in a great many refugees, with the Pope even attending an Orthodox Mass said by the Patriarch in Exile, one Father Aleksandr. 

Why couldn’t Mother have been more gentle? Lord Barbatos is revered as an Angel of God, as is Lord Buer, even if she is Muslim. If we could have united Christendom under her banner…

But it was far, far too late for such thoughts. 

“I believe that one day, all will be united in my Mother’s Divine love. She healed me, and all of Russia. She simply wishes to extend such an offer to all. But, I get ahead of myself. Let us not tarry,” Kollei said, turning away from the tarmac they’d made her sleigh land on at Chopin Airport towards the waiting motorcade. 

She took the arm the Prince offered her, his steps small and measured to accommodate her smaller stride. She was dressed for the day in the finery of an imperial princess, all in silver and light blue, save for the glowing emerald gem at her breast. She bore a tiara with the cryo sigil on it, and a long ermine cape that trailed behind her, flowers sprouting in her wake. It was a small display of divine power, but one she needed to make on this day. Even as her limousine peeled away from the airport, she made sure to continue the effect, flowers blooming amidst the snow and slush of the road as she traveled. 

She waved to those she passed, her limo being open air, but aside from sullen faces, she only saw banners with words like “GO HOME MOSKAL” and “POLAND BOWS TO NO CROWN.”

She felt her heart chill, just as her mother had told her to do. What else could she do? These people did not seem interested in her overture of peace. 

The grand Sejm and Senate Complex was located in the heart of Warsaw, and it was where most of the protesters were concentrated. Kollei saw a few with Imperial Flags or the Sigil of the Frozen Heart, but they were surrounded by Fatui or police to protect them from furious citizens who attempted to throw snowballs or worse, despite their protection. 

One protester, braver and more foolish than most, attempted to throw a rotten tomato at Kollei. In a flash, the Prince blocked the move, and his shimmering power enveloped the youth, who began to scream in pain and terror. 

Ajaks was there in an instant, his fists colliding with the Prince’s Blade in a sudden flurry of blows. The crowd roared and screamed, and they were mere breaths from a disaster that could have left hundreds dead. 

IVAN. STAND DOWN. Kollei barked, divine power filling her as she rose up from the ground, forcibly pulling him back with a carpet of thorns. Citizens fell to their knees in terror and awe, and Kollei winced. She didn’t like drawing so deeply on her mother’s power, but she saw no other way to descalate this.

“Ajaks! Back off! The man attempted to attack a diplomatic envoy!” Rozalyn commanded, her shimmering constructs zipping back and forth through the man and making him convulse slightly. 

“Fine. But this is the last time, Ruski!” Ajaks spat, a gleeful gleam in his eyes now. “Do not think next time I will go so easy on you!”

The Sleeper ignored him, sheathing his sword and turning to Kollei. “Forgive me, Princess. I thought only of your safety. Are you well?”

“I am fine,” Kollei said, letting go of her mother’s mantle and sinking back to the ground. “Come. We are here for peace. Not war.”

“As you say, your Highness,” the Prince agreed, bowing to her. 

With a heavy heart, Kollei trod up the steps, the stairs lined with soldiers and Polish capes. Several of them looked like they wished to throw something at her as well, and not just produce. 

They arrived to a joint session of the Sejm and Senate, with the President and Prime minister there along with the heads of the military. None looked best pleased to see Kollei, though the President shook her hand and gave a short speech that alluded to a desire for “peaceful co-existance.”

He knew perfectly well the Tsaritsa was interested in no such thing, and Kollei forced her heart to freeze a little more. 

She stepped up to the podium, and it was not her voice that spoke, but that of her mother. She had to follow the Script. The fate of the world was on the line. Of all worlds.

“Brothers and sisters, I came to you as a fellow Slav this day,” Bronya said, looking out at the unwelcoming faces in the assembled parliament. “Once, not long ago, our peoples were united in friendship and Love, together as Slavic nations that worked together for the good of both our peoples. We find ourselves in grim and dark times, when monsters prowl the world, and chaos reigns over the earth.”

“Not in Poland!” someone shouted, and there were shouts of agreement and scattered applause. 

Kollei waited for it to die down, then continued to read her script. “My Mother, her Serene Benevolence, the Tsaritsa, the Cryo Archon, wishes to gather in all her wayward children. She has seen the horror and devastation wrought in Kiev by the Endbringers, and it causes her great grief. I myself witnessed the destruction of Old Moscow by the Behemoth. Such things can not be allowed to happen in Poland, nor in any of the lands of my mother’s children.”

“As such, my Mother wishes to extend her Loving Embrace to the people of Poland. She-”

The boos and shouts drowned out Kollei’s next words, and when it did not stop, she closed her eyes. When she opened them, she saw through the eyes of a god.

SILENCE. YOUR MOTHER SPEAKS. 

The room went from raucous outrage to fearful silence in but a breath, fear etched on every face, save for those of Kollei’s entourage, who kneeled in adoration. 

I HAVE SENT MY DAUGHTER TO YOU TO OFFER YOU FOOLISH CHILDREN PEACE. YOU MAY KEEP YOUR OWN GOVERNMENT AND SELF RULE FOR NOW, AND SHOULD YOU PROVE YOURSELVES CAPABLE, MAY CONTINUE IN THAT CAPACITY. 

Kollei drifted outside of her body, her spirit watching as her mother spoke through her, her Divine Will and power manifesting in Kollei’s prepared vessel. It was eerie, it was terrifying.

It was necessary. 

THERE IS BUT ONE REQUIREMENT: I AM A JEALOUS GOD. YOU MUST REDEDICATE YOURSELVES TO ME. YOUR WORSHIP AND FAITH IS REQUIRED THAT I MAY PROTECT YOU FROM THE DEMON BEASTS AND THEIR GOLDEN MASTER. IF YOU DEFY ME, THEN I SHALL DISCIPLINE YOU AS THE WAYWARD CHILDREN YOU ARE. 

SUBMIT NOW, AND YOU WILL BE BLESSED BY MY LOVE AND PROTECTION. RESIST, AND YOU WILL FEEL THE CHILL OF MY WRATH. 

Silence reigned. For a moment, a brief, beautiful moment, Kollei thought that these mortals might submit to her mother’s will. That they might be spared the horrors of war. 

Then, an old man stood. He did so shakily, with the aid of a cane. His skin was liver-spotted, and he was wrinkled and scarred by the troubles of life. He had on an old military uniform, one that was a bit big on his bent form now, but Kollei recognized it: it was a dress uniform from the Second Polish Republic, circa 1938. 

“I remember when the Russians promised us peace many long years ago,” the old man said in a reedy, quavering voice. “I remember when they broke their promises to us. When they slaughtered our people and divided our land  with the Nazis. Then, when they were driven out, they returned, claiming to save us from worse masters. I remember suffering under their heel for fifty years! Fifty years of slavery! I will not do so again. I choose freedom. Get out, you filthy demon bitch!” 

“BITCH!”

“GET OUT, DEMON!” 

“DEMON BITCH!” 

“POLAND!”

“POLAND!”

“POLSKA!” The room cried with one voice.

Kollei’s mother’s anger was palpable, the temperature dropping as a blizzard began to rage outside. THEN YOU CHOOSE MY WRATH. 

With a tug, Kollei found herself back in her own body. She took a shuddering breath, then looked to her servants, who had their weapons out, forming a protective ring about her. 

“You should leave. Now,” Rozalyn growled, stepping forward. “Do not return.”

“I think you will find that we will return sooner than you might think,” the Prince said with a sneer on his handsome face. “Come, Princess. Leave these fools for now. We shall return in triumph soon.”

A heart of ice. Cooly, Kollei turned her back, and walked out into the blizzard. 

At sunset, New Moscow declared war. 

By sunrise, the Fatui had crossed into Poland. 

And all the while, the Sustainer of Heavenly principles looked on. And smiled. 

Author’s Note:

So, I’ve changed a bit regarding Bonesaw’s placement in the Harbingers from the Threat Assessment. Keep in mind I have to change these things up as the story evolves because they’re really just my notes for a rough draft of things. But isn’t it nice that Riley has such a Loving Family now? She can be Pater to all these wonderful people…

Also, for those keeping score, yes, that’s the last of the Undersiders, Alec. Like Sarah, he’s going by Jean-Paul for now as he has no reason to take on a pseudonym yet.  To fit the pattern, he has received a Vision instead of Triggering. And much like before, when he joins the Undersiders, he’s going to have a secret from his past with devastating consequences and connections to the S9. It’s just that it’s a little more personal this time.