I. The Deluge of Souls
The iron gates of Observa Divisio groaned shut, sealing the city against the night and the distant, dissipating dust of the battle. But inside the walls, the noise did not stop. It was a cacophony of 17,500 exhausted voices—the sound of a human tide crashing against the shores of safety.
The Great Plaza, usually a place of disciplined commerce, was a sea of bodies. Refugees sat on the cobblestones, clutching their few possessions. The air was thick with the smell of unwashed bodies, road dust, and the lingering, copper scent of the Malum Sickness that had been purged from their blood.
Prytanis Veridian Vex stood on the lower balcony of the Keep, looking out at the chaos. He had commanded armies, but this was a different kind of siege.
"They are safe from the monsters," Veridian said to Heda, the Legion Commander. "But we cannot fight thirst with a shield wall. The city wells were built for five thousand. We have twenty-five thousand mouths tonight."
II. The Void Cistern (The Water Crisis)
The crisis hit within the hour. The lines at the public fountains wrapped around the block. Arguments broke out. The existing aquifers were straining; the pumps were groaning dry.
Corvin Nyx did not wait for the riot. He descended from the Sanctum, flanked by Obsidiarc Vesper Thorne and Obel Harth.
He walked to the center of the Northern District, a large open park intended for future expansion. The ground here was dry, hard-packed earth.
"The water table is deep here, Lord," Vesper Thorne said, his eyes glowing with the violet sight of the Raven Brand. "Three hundred feet down. A massive artery of the underground river that feeds the South."
"Bring it up," Corvin commanded.
Vesper knelt. He placed his hands on the earth. He didn't dig; he summoned. Channeling the dense, gravity-defying power of the Void Reservoir, Vesper commanded the earth to part.
RUMBLE.
The ground split. A perfect, circular shaft, ten feet wide, bored itself into the crust with the sound of grinding tectonic plates. Vesper pulled, and the stone lining the shaft fused into seamless obsidian glass, creating a watertight pipe in seconds.
"It is rising," Vesper gasped, the effort straining his First Circle limits.
A roar echoed from the deep. A geyser of water, pressurized by the depth, shot up the shaft.
Corvin stepped forward. The water was muddy, filled with the silt of the deep earth.
He placed his hand into the torrent. He channeled the Purification aspect of his power—the same power that had cleansed Kyra's wounds. The violet light of the Shadow Heart flashed through the water column.
The mud vanished. The silt disintegrated. The water turned crystal clear, cold, and pure, shimmering with a faint internal light.
Obel Harth signaled his masons. In minutes, they used Earth Sorcery to raise a massive, wide-rimmed stone basin around the geyser—a Cistern capable of holding thousands of gallons. And even with water the Obsidian Ordo affected it.
"The Void Cistern," Corvin announced to the gathering crowd. "Drink. It will not run dry."
The panic evaporated. The refugees rushed forward, not to hoard, but to drink. The water was ice-cold and tasted of minerals and magic. It soothed their parched throats and settled the lingering nausea of their flight.
III. The Shelter of the Serva
With the thirst quenched, the reality of the night set in. The temperature was dropping. The Obsidian Ordo kept the worst of the weather at bay, but the stone streets were cold.
Garrus Vane had ordered the construction of Communal Halls, but Obel's crews needed time. The refugees had nowhere to sleep.
Then, the city opened its doors.
It began in the District of the Weaver. A shop door opened, and a family of Obsida-Serva—citizens who had lived under Corvin's rule for months—stepped out. They carried bundles of thick wool fabric, spare blankets, and rolls of canvas.
"We have space in the storeroom," the Weaver called out to a family of shivering refugees. "It's warm. Come."
It triggered a cascade. The Bakeries opened their ovens, the residual heat turning the shops into warm dormitories. The Tanneries cleared their drying floors to lay down sleeping mats. The Legion Barracks surrendered their mess halls.
In the plazas, the Raven Legionnaires worked alongside the refugees. They used their Obsidian Spears as tent poles, draping heavy canvas over them to create makeshift shelters. Fires were lit in iron braziers, fueled by the slow-burning Obsidian Coal from the northern mines.
It was a city of stone transforming into a city of canvas and kindness. The refugees, who had expected to be treated as cattle—as they were in the Union—wept as they were handed blankets by soldiers who looked like monsters but acted like guardians.
IV. The Purge Report
Late that night, in the command tent set up in the plaza, Garrus Vane presented the final tally to Corvin.
"The intake is complete, Lord," Garrus said, his voice low. "The Gate Chambers performed the judgment."
He slid a ledger across the table.
Total Arrivals: 20,400.
Accepted: 17,900.
Purged: 2,500.
"Two thousand five hundred," Corvin read. "High."
"The city of Voluptas was rotten," Garrus replied. "Many tried to hide their nature. Overseers disguised as beggars. Merchants who had sold children, trying to buy their way in. The Void Stone crushed them."
"Good," Corvin said. "The ash will be used for the mortar of the new walls. Even in death, they will serve the structure they despised."
V. The Quiet Victory
Corvin walked the camp at midnight. Kyra walked beside him, her hand in his.
The plaza was quiet, filled with the soft breathing of thousands of sleeping people. The Void Crystals on the lamp posts had been dimmed to a soft, ember-like glow to allow for rest.
They passed a tent made of Legion cloaks. Inside, a family slept—a father, a mother, and three children. They were clean. They were full. They were safe.
Kyra stopped. She looked at Corvin. "You destroyed a city today," she whispered, thinking of the battle outside. "And you built one tonight."
Corvin looked at the Void Cistern, where the water still bubbled, an eternal spring for his people.
"Chaos takes," Corvin said. "Order provides. They will sleep tonight. And tomorrow... we give them work. We give them dignity."
He looked up at the tower. The Raven Lord felt the weight of twenty thousand new lives anchoring him to the earth.