The Ancients

by Adam-Clay Webb

“As she says!” the commander reiterated, and in rapid flight, the winged creatures surrounded the shielded vessel. People were still crying and screaming inside.

  “Is she even supporting that shield?” the leading soldier asked himself, reaching up close. He saw that Clover was on her knees crying over the dead-looking woman, seemingly not paying attention to the shield, yet it was still quite stable.

  “Star… Please, wake up!” Clover cried. Star’s face was pale, her dress heavy with blood, her eyes shut and her mouth slightly open. “No! Sister!!”

  “Damn witch! Do something! They’re going to attack!” a voice came forth even above the noise. Clover glanced up, her face struck with great sorrow.

  “Anam Resal!” the commanding soldier blasted, pointing his staff at the purple sphere. With that, a beam of concentrated magical power came forth from the weapon and struck the shield. In combination, the other sorcerers surrounding the ship sent at it their most powerful attacks. Even the dragonites sent streams of fire at the magical shield. There was a mighty sound and a pulsing wind and a blinding light as the shield was struck with magic and fire. Suddenly, it was like everyone in the ship had gone blind. There was pandemonium in what quickly changed from blinding light to a thick blackness. The place quaked and the noise was stifling.

  Grimstone grew confused as the immense light from the blast vanished, consumed by a power that few sorcerers saw first-hand. “What in the name of Oga…” Grimstone’s jaws dropped and she released the blue sword she was grasping, making it disappear.

  “C—Commander…” one of the soldiers muttered, glancing nervously over to his leader, but only to see a face of fear just the same as his. Making rapid revolutions about the ship was mana that far surpassed the sixth grade. Frozen in fear, the dragonite riders watched their doom approach as hands made of black mana emerged from the sphere of black power. As the gigantic hands were about to kill them, they turned to purple, along with the rotating sphere. Grimstone saw the solid darkness in the girl’s eyes fade as she collapsed. The hands, and the body of mana turned red, then quickly blue, then disappeared altogether. The young witch then seemed to lose consciousness, though she was still kneeling above the woman, her head hung down. On the ship and on the dragonites wreaked a sudden silence of awe and wonder.

  “Now, you idiots! Attack before she awakes!” Grimstone blasted, materializing blue swords, getting her senses back. The commander got his head back together as well.

  “Sink that ship, soldiers!” he gave the order. But as they were about to attack, there was another twist in the tale.

  An elaborate body of purple mana appeared in the air above them.

  “Stand down, all of you!” a voice of supremacy ordered. Everyone looked up at a noble woman who was standing on a floating purple platform, a half square meter of floor in the air. Her majestic purple dress with the emblem of Notherland fluttered rowdily in the night breeze. In two fast shifts eyes struggled to follow, the woman was out on the water where the yellow bridge was. As she touched the water, a purple floor extended from beneath her, quickly spanning many meters and even reaching to the ship and the shore of Notherland. Clover and Star were on the purple floor with her. She was kneeling by them, already applying high-level healing magic.

  Tens of mana clouds appeared as the Notherlandians spaceshifted and reached about the woman, kneeling and bowing their heads before her. With a fast command, the dragonites were returned through the red portal that they had entered through.

  “S-S-Supreme Councillor,” Grimstone’s voice trembled. She was being careful not to make eye contact with the Notherlandian leader. Councillor Hawthorne finally stood, giving nastily threatening glances to those there who bore the crest of her country, the symbol of the race of their god.

  Chapter 7: King

  The old geezer with the crooked smile made to scare or con young girls flicked a rusty bronze coin at the cleaner. She snatched it from the air, nearly stumbling over the mop and bucket. “Tamarra again, eh?” the man asked, grinning with more teeth missing than present. His eyes feasted some more on the girl’s body as she left.

  She was quite pretty – she had short, messy, boyish, frazzled crème-coloured hair, but it suited her well. She wore a tight skimpy white blouse and blue shorts that didn’t quite cover her thighs with tears and threads hanging down. She didn’t have to clean inside the dorms but she quickly mapped out which rooms could earn her an extra crumb on her income. The rooms where she got crumbs were those occupied by spouseless men who could afford to spend a little to see her slowly bend and wipe and dust every day.

  They kept their safe distance though, as the rumour spread through the ship about the one man who got too excited and had to go for a grab. The stories say the girl left a knife in his arm, though his version recounts a manly fight he and a chef got into, a chef no one else ever saw and no one else knew.

  She closed the old man’s door and continued down the corridor of cabins. She made a scoffing flash and annoyed hiss at a man who whistled at her to come in. His door was open, but she ignored him as he never paid. She looked over at a door that was always locked. She had never seen anyone enter or exit that room. She got a tad more curious about it each time she passed. Could someone be dead inside? The thought thrilled her and she grinned without noticing. There are a thousand on this ship. There can’t be too bad a chance that one is dead in bed. She rested the bucket of soapy water and the mop and knocked on the door as she used to do for the first few days. As usual, no answer.

  “Well then,” she whispered to herself and took a deep breath. She nudged the knob, but of course, it was locked. She looked about. Not too many were watching. She took a small needle out of her bosom and rammed it into the keyhole, making a few nudges until she heard a click. She opened the door slowly. The room was so black. It seemed the darkness in there was unnatural. Feeling a strange, nervous excitement, she closed the door behind her and locked it.

  She stood still for a moment as her eyes forced themselves to adjust to the dark. As her pupils strained and widened more than they had ever, she made out the outline of a person sitting on the top bunk of a double bed at the other end of the room. As she inhaled to say something – she wasn’t even sure what – she witnessed the emergence of a new darkness. The person sitting there opened their eyes and a darkness that was beyond real flooded the place, blinding her. That same moment, she felt a firm, deadly grip about her throat. She struggled to breathe, shaking against the door in utter fright. Even through the darkness, the girl saw a pair of eyes before her that were blacker than death. She also saw and almost felt three back spikes clenched between the knuckles of a steady fist. They were almost touching her face. After a second, the heavy darkness lifted from the room, and the black spikes as well as the darkness in the boy’s eyes disappeared. Lex gasped and jumped back, his hands shaking. He saw the redness about the girl’s neck that his hand had forced.

  As he was meditating with the spirits for many days in training, tiny amounts of the demons’ essence seeped from his eyes and blackened the room. On regaining awareness of reality, the darkness was quickly reabsorbed through his eyes. “Y—y—you alright, girl?” Lex stammered nervously. The girl still could not speak. Lex stepped to her quickly and held her neck softly. He could see the girl’s chest bumping with her thumping heartbeat.

  “Wh—Wh—You—You are Lex Leo… aren’t you?” the girl asked, frightening the boy. The girl’s face changed from one of fright to that of wondrous discovery.

  ***

  The young witch cracked her eyes open to a dreamy brightness – not the kind of brightness to make her cover her eyes or squint, the type that a mild sunrise graced country windows with, that made her feel light and airy and gave a sense of hope to her spirit. Her vision focused and her brows furrowed slightly. She was definitely confused and curious, but somehow there was no fear in her. She noticed that she was lying in some kind of coffin-shaped object. Her covering was a glass shield that sea
led the top of the strange, tight bedding. She heard a tiny beeping noise.

  “Good morning, Clover Bengushi,” she heard the voice of what sounded like a pretty young woman. She jolted slightly, then her eyes made a weird shape as she looked up at a green writing that appeared on the transparent glass before her. Clover Bengushi. Class A citizen. Status: Recovery 100% complete. Awake. The voice that Clover realized came from within the glass chamber bed thing read all that she saw. The writing then disappeared and the glass covering faded into thin air.

  The girl slowly eased herself up. She looked down at herself and gasped with a near laugh. She tried to ask herself some questions, but not even that she found she could do without stuttering too much. She was in a gorgeous, heavy purple dress that almost brushed the ground as she found herself spinning in it. It was a dress that she would imagine queens even much grander and richer and nobler than the Magmalian Queen would wear. She looked up at a large window that let in a golden light that gave the place a blissful feel. The room was large, and there were two doors there. Though massive the room was, it wasn’t filled with space. There were dressers and closets and figurines and couches that filled the place comfily, all brown and green.

  There was also a bed there with green sheets much bigger than the three beds she, Kyle and Lex used to sleep on put together. She tried to shake off the sudden and anachronistic nostalgia. She saw rich green hills when she looked outside.

  She spasmed as she heard a knocking on one of the doors. What should I do? Should I hide? Where am I? The knocking sounded again. “C—Come in?” Clover said, sounding pretty uncertain. A woman in a long crème dress, not half as fancy as Clover’s, entered through one of the doors. Her face was bright and welcoming, much like Star’s when she had first met her. She didn’t even notice that she had forgotten about her sister for a moment.

  “You are awake,” the woman said, walking up to her. “Welcome, Clover. Welcome to--”

  “Where’s my sister?! Where’s Star?!” she suddenly panicked. Clover pushed the woman out of the way fiercely and burst through the door behind her – it was like she had sensed Star’s presence back there.

  She reached into a room almost identical to the one she was just in. There Star was lying in the strange talking thing – all of a sudden it looked more like a coffin than it had moments before. Clover gasped and ran over to the lying woman. She looked down at her. She was finely dressed in a red dress but didn’t seem conscious – there was no sign of breathing or slight eye movement – nothing. “Star…” Clover placed her hands down on the glass and writing appeared. Star Bengushi. Class A citizen. Status: Stabilized. Recovery: 37% Clover flashed her head back over to the woman who stood at the door.

  “She is alright. She is healing as you were. Her condition was far worse, so she will take a while longer to wake. It is still a miracle that the healing chamber can even help her.” Clover stared at the woman for a moment and then sighed heavily, trying to register everything in her head. She tried to remember how the battle at the shore had ended, but everything was too blurry.

  “What happened?” Clover asked. Clover noticed that the woman became a little distracted. She put her left index and middle fingers on her temple, then grabbed her wrist.

  “Right away, Ma’am,” she said, like she was making some kind of dutiful report, still looking at Clover. Clover instantly remembered how Grimstone had called for the soldiers to fight her and Star. “Yes, the younger one is awake,” she continued.

  Clover suddenly became nervous. She felt like a prisoner now. Of course! They’ve captured me! She figured. I am an enemy of Notherland! She remembered. She roused her fourth grade mana suddenly. The woman before her stretched her right hand out to her, blue mana like Clover’s about her hand.

  “Relax, girl,” she told Clover warningly. “You are protected here.” The woman held on to her wrist again, still looking forward at Clover. “Yes, I will be right there,” she said. “Girl, do not leave this house!” she said sternly to Clover. “I will return in a short while.” With that, the woman shifted away.

  Clover looked about, then rushed back to where Star was. Still 37%?! She figured it was best she stayed with Star while she healed. “I may as well take a look around,” she told herself, feeling somewhat intrigued to browse through whatever mansion or facility she was in.

  ***

  “How would you know my name?” Lex asked, quickly and nimbly in a jump and a grab reaching up to the top bunk. The girl laughed, seeming impressed. She made quick movements and reached up there with him, certainly impressing him.

  “Those eyes,” she began with a face of wondrous excitement, even worship. “I have heard rumours and read writings of you. You carry that demon don’t you?! You were supposed to fight Trium! You were the centre of Black War!”

  “Keep it down, alright?!” Lex hushed her in a snap.

  “Oh, sorry, sorry, sorry,” she whispered. “So what happened, really? Trium came down like rain so I guess you didn’t get to fight him as you had planned. But somehow the world survived the attack!”

  Lex wondered where to start. He rested his forehead in his hand. “Should you understand anything, I would have to tell everything,” Lex said.

  “I’m all ears, Lex Leo!” She was even more excited than Star was when she had first met Lex. Lex smiled. He felt a kind of relief that there was someone there for him to tell his truths and tales. He had never really spoken to anyone what felt like a really long time – excepting the demons of course, if they count.

  “Let me start from a man you think you know about – the god of magic…”

  ***

  “My father has led this nation down a path of dishonour and destruction… I have come not to continue that journey, but to begin a new one!” He raised his fist mightily and the people cheered for the young king. Indeed, the people had felt serious oppression under Aragan’s rule for decades, and they were staring into the face of a brighter future. “Yes, the rumours are true! Our last king led an attack against all of Libson, and I, his son, made allies with Hercule and defended the continent!” There was noise and chattering that made Azar a little nervous, but he continued anyway. “I have captured and imprisoned my father, as I cannot allow this country, this continent, to crumble underneath his fists! And henceforth, with King Azar, a new era has begun!” The young Magmalian was already sworn in as king, and was making his grand address to the masses who gathered thickly about the royal tower. Not even Azar had seen so many gathered in one place. As he stood and looked down on them, he already truly understood the essence of being king, or so he felt.

  “From this day forward, Magma Town is a relic of our past! We will be known, as we were in a better time, throughout the world as the great Magma Land, strong defender of Libson!” Azar felt an invigorating thrill through his veins as his people roared mightily for him. Magmalian flags went up to the skies, pushed up by the parade of Magmalian soldiers – most of whom had hatred and devious plans for Azar.

  “As humble king of Magma Land, without tyranny our bloodshed, with alliance instead of oppression, this empire and Hercule will unite this entire continent under one banner that we might be able to stand even against the world’s strongest nations!” The air cracked with mighty shouts for the new king. Kyle, along with the heads of state, was standing behind King Azar. Kyle knew that Azar’s kingship would be well-opposed, but he knew even better the strength of this king. The higher-ups close to Kyle, most of the older ones who had thick ties to their old king, mumbled amongst themselves.

  “This boy,” Kyle heard one of them say, “he will either soon learn and repeat his father’s way of a stern fist or he will fail miserably… It is us elders who will end up having to rule over this land…”

  “Once I am alive, none of those shadows of that rotten king can overthrow Azar,” Kyle pledged silently.

  ***

  And so Lex spent about three hours in constant story-telling, keeping the girl’s eyes a
light and her mouth drooling for such adventures, such glory. Lex snickered. He saw how quickly the girl had become truly obsessed with him.

  “Lex…” she said beggingly in a whisper. “When you get off this ship… take me with you,” she said.

  Lex pretended to be surprised. “You would abandon all your plans to journey with a stranger?”

  “Lex, you will shape the future of this world! Give me my chance to help you make what will be a history never to be forgotten!”

  “I’m really honoured that you want to accompany me, but my mission, my training, it’s not a vacation, alright?”

  “What?!” The girl looked terribly offended, frightening Lex. “You know the reason why I am aboard this ship?! You think this is all a coincidence, Lex?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I left Libson, but I am not running away from anything. I know the entire world is in chaos now. My entire family was killed, my house destroyed, leaving me nothing! I boarded this ship not running away, but running toward the destiny that I have found by your side!”

  Lex stared at the girl with a new sense. She stood up like she was about to lead an army into a world-changing attack.

  “I am Lash of the Village of Oridon, master of knives and needles!” She made a quick flash with her hands, and in a moment too quick for Lex to study, long needles were clutched amongst her fingers, ready to be thrown at deadly speeds. She laughed when she saw how stunned Lex was. She fixed the needles back down into the waist of her shorts, where Lex noticed probably a hundred super-thin needles were hidden. She moved closer yet to Lex and held his face, making him gasp just a little. He looked into her eyes. They had the sandy colour of her hair, which was almost identical to Lex’s.

  Though pretty she was, there were a number of vague cuts and scars all over her, even on her face. Lex could see it on her that she had been through a lot, that the Black War had changed her heart and how she saw the world.