by Gene Stiles
In one corner of the long, windowless, granite-walled room, a tangled heap of Atlantean metal, salvaged from the damaged ships, and useless weapons, laid in jumbled disarray. Next to it, a small pile of discarded experiments of curved, polished castings sparkled in bright lights fastened along the rock walls. Shelves of heavy oak filled with parts, cogs, wheels and unnamed objects sat atop rods drilled into the rock. Waves of heat shimmered above a large vat of red-hot liquid bubbling over the reddish-orange embers and blazing fire of a square, granite pit. Molded lengths of borithium about two inches around lay upon one end of a long, silver workbench, scattered with tools and vices, which occupied one side of the chamber.
Happy with the tensile strength of the rods, he stepped outside, leaving the warmth of his workspace. The brisk air of early sunrise almost shocked his lungs after the stifling heat of his laboratory causing him to cough for a moment.
“What is the matter, Lelantos?” Morpheus quipped, striding gracefully toward him, Haleah ever-present at his side. “Is the morning too cold for you?”
He was dressed in padded, brownish leather pants slit up the outside of each leg, but cinched tightly together by leather strips. Over his broad chest, he wore a shirt of the same material cut in a deep V down to his sternum, held together by leather ties loosely laced up each side. His raven-black hair cascaded in waves down the outside of the knee-length, black, hooded cloak to just above his calf-high, leather boots. A bone-handled blade hung in a dark brown sheath from his intricately tooled belt and down to midway between hip and knee.
“I see you are still burdened with this useless lout, Lady Haleah,” Lelantos returned, shaking his head as if saddened for her. “Should you require assistance to escape from his vile clutches, I am here for you,” he smiled, bowing deeply.
“Thank you for that,” Haleah returned with a sly grin. “There are times when I may avail myself of your offer. He can be such a brute and you are so incredibly gallant and handsome.”
“Excuse me?” Morpheus feigned hurt and dismay, his ebony eyes widening. “I am crushed that my two closest friends think so little of me!”
“See?” Haleah laughed, releasing his hand to cuddle close to Lelantos. “He thinks of me as only a ‘friend’! After all, we have been through, how can he still be so cruel?”
“I shall protect you,” Lelantos nodded, wrapping his arm over her shoulder and chortling while Morpheus stammered and sputtered. Morpheus started to speak, but Lelantos raised his hand and grinned. “You should quit while you are ahead, my friend. Say more and I shall have your woman forever.”
“You are probably correct, my friend,” Morpheus sighed dejectedly, turning to head back to the main part of the settlement. “I shall return when the two of you are in a more congenial mood.”
“You can stay, my love,” Haleah responded, a mischievous twinkle in her bright blue eyes. When Morpheus brightened, she added, “We will need someone to haul our many kills to the sleds.”
“I am so abused,” Morpheus sighed, shaking his head, his long, black hair hiding his face staring dejectedly at the ground. He gazed up at his friend, trying his best to hide the glimmer of a smile that played along his lips. “I shall only survive by changing the subject. How goes your secret project, Lelantos?”
“Well. It is almost ready to share with everyone.”
Lelantos walked to the large stall next to his shop, his friends following closely in his footsteps. The stone walls of the open-fronted space were lined with shelves filled with wooden boxes and the various shapes of unidentifiable contraptions. Heaps of wood and metal materials lay scattered in clumps beneath the shelves as if tossed there by an angry child. The center of the room was the only area free of clutter. Three Polaris sleds waited on their stubbly legs, already packed with food and weapons for the days hunting trip.
“Lelantos,” Morpheus commented, staring at the unholy mess, “you are the finest engineer of the People. Everything you design, from buildings to equipment, is a work of art, clean and beautiful to look upon. As one of the finest Aam I have ever fought with and an incredible sailor, your quarters are neat and precise, everything stowed in its proper place.” He waved his hand across the stall and shook his head. “How, in the name of the Creator, could you abide by such chaos?”
“It is not chaos,” Lelantos laughed. “I know where everything is! I have a system.”
“If you two gentlemen are finished with each other,” Haleah smiled, her long, shapely, brown leather clad legs straddling the cushioned seat on her sled, “the day is a wasting and we have a distance to travel. Shall we?” She powered forward leaving the men to scramble to mount their sleds and catch up, her tinkling laugher trailing behind her.
The morning mists that curled around the base of the northern mountains and lay like a soft blanket on the scattered meadows were fading into fine wisps in the warmth of the rising sun. The high, green grasses were spotted with large patches of giant, yellow sunflowers and sparkled with dewy crystals as if a million stars coated the soft ground. The rugged foothills, heavily forested by gigantic evergreens, grudgingly gave way to a vast plain dotted with grasslands, small lakes, bright blue ponds and rocky outcroppings. Wildflowers grew everywhere, exploding in a vibrant array of colors as if the Creator, Himself, had swept a paintbrush of rainbows across the landscape.
Morpheus was not immune to the incredible beauty surrounding him as he lay stretched out on his stomach on the cool, flat rock overlooking a small pond downwind that rippled with a soft morning breeze. It was just that his concentration centered on a small herd of about a dozen long-legged deer. Named - like so many of the flora and fauna in this world - after creatures and plants of legend and fantasy from a time when Atlan was still green, these animals were fleet of foot and could twist away at angles impossible for mankind. Only one of this group was crowned with a rack of multi-pronged horns that could rip a predator into bloody bits and it was this one Morpheus hunted.
The magnificent male stood almost six foot tall at the shoulder and weighed hundreds of pounds. His dusty-chestnut fur shone smooth and soft, yet was pulled tightly over powerful, corded muscles. His head was high and alert, his black muzzle sniffing the air, his large, dark eyes constantly shifting while he watched over the females sipping from the cold, blue waters. Had it not been for the needs of the settlement, Morpheus would never kill such an incredibly beautiful creature. With regret, he raised his rifle to fire.
A deep, rumbling growl reverberated from the rocks above and behind him, sending a cold chill shivering down his spine. With exaggerated care, Morpheus rolled over onto his back, holding the plasma rifle close to his slowly rising chest. His ebony eyes narrowed, but he remained calm and quiet, his Aam senses taking command of his mind and body. One hand on the butt of his gun, the other a hair’s breath away from the trigger, he waited unmoving, his body flooding with strength and adrenaline.
Ten feet away from Morpheus stood the largest Dire Wolf he had ever seen. The massive beast stood on the rocks above him, black hackles raised like sharp spikes running down the length of its spine. It glared down at him with pupil-less, ice-blue eyes, two razor fangs the length of Morpheus’ hand dripping with the crimson blood of a recent kill. The snarling, black muzzle of the gigantic animal rippled with white-toothed menace, a deep-throated warning filling its huge, silver chest. The gray and black fur, torn and scarred from a lifetime of victorious battles, overlay bunched muscles quivering with emanate attack.
Morpheus seemed locked for an eternity in silent combat with the wolf, ebony eyes staring into cold, blue ice, neither threatening nor giving ground. He did not move save for the steady, rhythmic rise of his chest. A practiced ease focused his attention on every detail of the beast from the tendons strung tightly up the back of each vibrating leg to the slightly lowered haunches and the tail half shorn of fur curled around the side of its leg. Pyramid-shaped, black-tipped, gray ears lay tight against the rounded skull on either side of the black marking
s surrounding those deep-set, piercing eyes. Morpheus saw the serrated jaws open, the back legs drop and the front knees bend slightly and knew the deadlock had broken.
Four hundred pounds of primal fury leapt high into the warm morning air, vicious black claws splayed to tear flesh from bone. A soul-searing, thunderous howl split the sun, silencing everything that crawled upon or below the earth or graced the skies above. Even the wind stopped whispering through the moistened grasses, ending the gentle sway of leaves and flowers. The small herd of deer froze as if an early snowstorm had swept down from the jagged peaks that bit into high white clouds with slathering jaws.
Morpheus snapped his rifle up and pulled the trigger in one fluid motion, a surge of spine-tingling fear rushing through him at the sound of an empty, useless click. His dark eyes widened at the same moment his square jaw clenched. The monstrous beast landed chest-first on the upraised barrel with barely a grunt, fore and back legs slashing bloody ribbons from Morpheus’ legs and arms. He jerked his head sideways just in time to keep gnashing teeth from sinking deep into his eyeballs. Still, one sharp fang slit a long furrow from his high cheekbone to his taut jawline. The foul stink of the wolf’s fetid breath assailed his flared nostrils, hot, acidic saliva splattering his skin.
With all of his prodigious strength, Morpheus shoved the rifle upward, twisting to the side. The mammoth Dire Wolf tumbled up and over him landing hard on the packed earth, shaking its mighty head for a second before erupting back into the fight. Morpheus ignored the fiery pain exploding down his ripped and blood-soaked legs, his own thunderous growl matching the wolf as he jumped into the sky to meet his adversary. The two titans collided in a flurry of flesh and fur, razor claws and hardened knuckles, snapping jaws and kicking feet.
Morpheus smashed the rock-hard skull of the wolf mid-flight, stunning the great creature, but took four black claws to the solar plexus as it kicked out in passing, scraping against exposed, white bone. His breath was sucked from his lungs in a volcanic blaze and he hit the soaking red carpet of green hard, rolling away, his slashed arms crossed protectively over his heaving chest. Morpheus struggled to his feet on weak and quivering legs, one foot planted firmly, the other sliding slowly behind him.
The infuriated horror of bristling fur and bulging sinew tumbled in the flattened grass, a halo of sticky crimson spray fanning out around its head as it shook like ridding itself of pond water. The Dire Wolf grinned in malevolent glee, its muzzle drawn up in a fanged smile at the copperish tang of fresh blood that permeated the breeze. Blue eyes hazed over with a reddish film, it slowly encircled its wounded adversary. Sensing the growing weakness in the invader of its territory, the canny animal made no move to attack, instead waiting for the thing to fall.
Morpheus knew he had little time left. Rivers of blood cascaded down the full length of his body. Muscles screamed in burning fire where they had been ripped by demonic claws. Several tendons in his left forearm were severed making the limb utterly useless. He held his right arm tightly across his heaving chest, attempting to stem the flow of life fluid draining his will. His massive legs were sliced and quivering. He would not be able to stand much longer and, when he fell, he knew the hellish beast before him would rip him to pieces. His strength ebbed with each drop of crimson that flowed into the growing dark pool at his feet. His vision wavered as if peering through the depths of greenish, murky water. Morpheus saw prophetic death in those blue-fire eyes and knew there was little he could do about it.
He felt his left leg buckle, dropping him to his knee with bone-jarring impact. His right arm fell to his waist, his hand touching the hilt of his forgotten knife. Morpheus tore the silver blade from its sheath, seeing the gray monstrosity hurling toward him with an ear-numbing howl of victory. Backed by his iron will, he drew forth the last of remnants of dying strength, rolling to his side and slashing upward at the exposed white underbelly of the snarling, snapping creature. The finely honed blade cut through muscle, tendon and bone, spilling coils of greenish entrails onto the blood-slick grass.
Screaming in pain and bestial rage, the Dire Wolf rose on shivering legs, unwilling to acquiesce to death. It took a few struggling steps toward Morpheus, lying unmoving on the ground, dragging ropes of bloody viscera. Its primal brain wanting nothing more than to take its killer with him, the gigantic old wolf howled in eerie, frustrated fury. With a last thunderous wail of defiance, the gargantuan horror fell to its side sighing out its last rebellious breath.
Morpheus heard the far off singing of an angel calling him home to her welcoming embrace. He lay on a warm bed of sweet smelling of flowers, a golden light pouring down upon his upturned face, cocooning him in the loving arms of the Creator. Morpheus felt himself rise out of his destroyed body, floating across an aromatic landscape free of pain and worry. He smiled happily at the soft, gentle touch of His hand on his bloody, fevered face and slipped joyfully into the blissful cradle of peaceful darkness.
Haleah heard the ghastly howl split the morning air from her perch in the hollow between two limbs of a huge old oak tree overlooking a small river. Two young brownish cubs played with a school of rainbow colored-fish trapped in a tiny pool after the water receded after the last rains. Their mother stood in watchful guard a few feet away while the father waded into the white-capped rapids to swat the family’s morning meal from the raging waters. She was waiting patiently for the bear to finish providing for his mate and young before she would take her shot, not wishing to bring more harm to the rest of his family. The bears came instantly erect at the bestial scream and bolted for the cover of the thick, dark forest at the foot of the mountains.
Haleah dropped from her hideaway in an instant, her feet touching lightly on a soft patch of spongy, green moss. Her stomach churned like the river, knowing with a shivering chill what made that blood-curdling sound and that it came from the direction Morpheus had taken to hunt. She bounded toward where her sled lay hidden in a pile of brush and leaves torn from the undergrowth. She heard another horrific howl followed by a roar that she knew came from her love. Her heart froze and quit beating, hanging like a heavy stone in her chest. Unbreathing, Haleah ripped the heap aside just enough to clear her seat and swung her long leg over the saddle. Her waist-length, honey blond hair caught in some of the twigs and branches, tearing them from her head, but she ignored the minor pain, thrusting the sled from its cover as fast as it could move.
Haleah blasted through the tall, swaying grasses, small rodents and rabbits leaping in terrified confusion away from the wide wake of flattened green she left behind her. Deer bounded across the meadow, getting as far from her as possible, leaving frustrated predators to stare in hungry, angry bafflement. All she could think of was getting to Morpheus before the Dire Wolf tore him apart. The Clan had faced these ferocious beasts before and had lost many to their maddened fury. A pack of Dire Wolves could bring down the mammoth, long-snouted, tusked giants the Izon sometimes hunted or a complete herd of the curl-horned water cows that grazed along riverbanks. These wolves were more than formidable and she was terrified at what they could do to her love.
Halfway across the grasslands, Haleah was met by Lelantos skimming across the meadow in a rush to get to his friend. He grimly nodded at her, but said no more. There was no need. Both knew what deathly danger Morpheus was in. All they could hope was that his skills and weapons could protect him until they arrived.
They were too late.
Morpheus lay curled in a congealing dark puddle of his own blood, his robe and clothes shredded into tattered rags. Haleah turned him gently onto his back to assess his injuries and cried out at the devastation inflicted on his powerful body. Scraped, exposed bone shown bright and glistening in the sun-filled, blue sky. Ragged strips of flesh hung limply around the jagged tears in his barely rising chest. She wept gazing on the mutilation of his arms and legs, the deep furrowed gashes of vicious, raking claws. The seeping lifeblood moved slowly telling of a heart nearly stilled.
Haleah cradle
d his pale face in her lap, quietly calling his name between her sobs. She ran her slender fingers tenderly down the undamaged side of his face, brushing the matted, black hair from his cheek. She lifted his sweaty lips to hers and softly caressed Morpheus, whispering to him, “Come back to me, my love. Come back.”
“Haleah, help me,” Lelantos said, lightly touching her shoulder. “I need your help to save him. Please, Haleah. We have little time.”
Haleah looked up into his gravely somber, gold-flecked, hazel eyes as if she did not understand him. Her grief threatened to overwhelm her turbulent mind as she held Morpheus tightly to her breast. Her brilliant blue eyes were fogged over with terrified tears and she could not think.
“Haleah,” Lelantos repeated, pulling at her arm. “Haleah, now. Lay Morpheus down and kneel at his head. Now!”
The urgency in his tone splashed against Haleah like a bucket of icy cold water, freeing her from her prison of terror. She slid from beneath him and laid Morpheus carefully to the wet earth. As Lelantos ordered, she knelt next to him, fighting back more wracking sobs. Lelantos kneeled near her, his right hand on Morpheus’ calf muscle.
“Place your left hand on his forehead,” he said firmly, reaching out to her, “and take my hand with your right. I do not have the energy to repair such extensive damage by myself. We must Lend together or he will die.”
Haleah stared at him for a moment then took his proffered hand.
“I have never done this before,” she whispered. “I do not even know if I can.”
“You can. You are of the People,” Lelantos stated harshly. “More importantly, you must if we are to save Morpheus.” He took her tiny hand into his giant one as he would a child. “Now listen to me carefully,” he said softly. “Close your eyes and clear your mind of grief or worry. Concentrate only on the beat of your heart. Keep it slow and constant. Breathe deeply in through your nose and out through your lips. Feel the warmth of your body rising. Welcome my power into yours. Feel the two energies merging into one. Do not fight it. Call it to you. Luxuriate in the warm, golden glow.”
