by JN Chaney
Terry unsheathed his sword and readied himself. In an instant, he was fully aware, his mind relaxed and his breathing steady. He stepped forward and charged, with Ludo at his side. The farmer continued his barrage of daggers until he’d used them all, then unsheathed his own sword and prepared for the assault.
Terry passed by two other soldiers, sliding the edge of his blade across one of their necks, spilling blood into the rain. In the same motion, he twisted around and plunged the sword into the stomach of the second man, sending him into the puddle beneath his feet. The blade slid free without issue, and he raised his eyes, only to be met by the tip of the priestess’s spear as it came close enough to nearly touch his forehead. He dodged, watching as the spear slid by him.
He knocked the spear away with his sword, causing Tia to step away from him. She steadied herself, then swept her leg back and leveled her weapon. Beads of rainwater glittered on the blade in the dim light of the gray sky.
Terry moved to his side, stepping around her, but the tip of the spear remained fixed and unwavering. As soon as his eyes left it, Tia jerked the weapon toward him, forcing him to take a step back. She laughed.
The sword in his hand was not meant for this kind of combat. He had to get closer, just as Ludo had taught him. Get in tight and slice.
He stepped closer, clashing his weapon with hers and knocking it away. She moved with it, covering herself.
He tried again, but she pushed the spear at him, keeping back. He deflected it, but barely. “Careful now,” she laughed.
He continued to press her, but she kept her distance, always the length of the spear. Here in this open environment, he was at a disadvantage.
She extended the stick in several quick thrusts, managing to cut him in multiple spots, but only slightly. The pain was sharp and brief, barely lasting more than a second, but it was enough to cause him some panic. “Got you,” said the priestess, grinning, almost seething at the mouth.
He had to change the rules of this fight somehow. He had to—
Behind her, he spotted a handful of trees. If he could push her there, maybe in close quarters…maybe then, he could win.
The spear thrust at him once more, nearly hitting his side. He took the opportunity to try to grab it, but the priestess was too fast. Again, he looked at the trees. Limiting her mobility was the first step, then he could try to disarm.
He swung his sword at the tip of her weapon, edging his way forward. She snarled at him, inching back to keep her spacing.
He deflected several of her attacks, continuing the slow crawl away from the open field, pushing her. Always pushing. As they moved deeper into the thicket of trees, she surprised him with another lunge, slitting his thigh. Blood ran from the wound, and he nearly stumbled. The woman smiled before trying a second time.
He hit the side of her spear with his sword, knocking it away. Ignoring the pain, he stepped forward, forcing her to take a step back. She collided with one of the trees. A look of panic seized her, and she tried to move, but Terry slid toward her.
She tried to use the spear, but missed.
He grabbed it, raising it over his side. She couldn’t pull it back anymore, not with her back against the wood. “Get away!” she yelled.
Terry swung in close and tight, keeping the spear behind him.
He slid the edge of his sword along her stomach, splitting her open like a fish, guts pouring out. The edge of his blade snagged a piece of bone—one of her ribs—catching it. Blood erupted out of her, covering him as he tried to yank the weapon free from her body. Their eyes met, inches from one another, and Terry watched as the life began to leave her face. “No…” she cried as her body fell apart. “I…”
Terry pulled the sword free from her belly, backing away at last, blood on his chest and hips.
The priestess fell to the ground, dead.
He picked up her spear and threw it into the field, then turned his sights to Ludo. The farmer had dispatched most of the guards, with only two remaining. He’d taken a few hits, but seemed to be okay.
Better make sure he stays that way.
******
Ysa felt the cold mud between her fingers as she pushed herself up from the ground. Zika had separated from her once they hit the trees. Now, she lay in the torn grass of the field, motionless. With any luck, Ysa hoped, the blow had done her in. Perhaps this fight was already over.
Zika coughed, stirring slightly, moving her legs and arms. Of course, someone like her would not be so easily subdued. Ysa was a fool for believing as much.
Were it so easy.
Ysa got to her feet, wiping the mud from her face and hands. A slight ache in her side caused her to flinch. She lifted her shirt and saw several small scrapes, with splinters sticking out. Her body was not fully healed, it seemed, which meant she would not be able to withstand very many hits. If she’d had a few more days, perhaps her ability to harden her skin would have returned, but there was no sense dwelling on that which could not be changed. She was here in this moment, stuck with this body, about to fight against this woman. That was how it had to be.
Zika struggled to get to her feet, but Ysa ran at her and attempted to strike. Zika grabbed her leg before it could hit, then threw her to the side. Ysa whirled through the air, landing on her feet.
She took a breath and focused. A micro-meditation. One breath to regain her composure, shutting out the pain in her side.
Focus.
She ran again at her enemy, feigning to hit her in the stomach. Zika went to block, but Ysa twisted, carrying the weight of her body toward Zika’s throat, slamming her fist into it.
Zika gagged. She drew her dagger and swung it wildly in the air, trying to catch her breath.
Ysa charged, ducking beneath the dagger and wrapping her hands around Zika’s legs. She pulled the priestess to the ground.
Zika landed on her shoulders, kicking into a backward roll, and kicking Ysa in the face. She stood, then ran at her, raising the knife, and straddling Ysa.
Ysa caught the woman’s wrist, holding her back. The knife inched closer. Zika pushed harder. The blade touched Ysa’s cheek, cutting the skin. She felt a surge of pain, but didn’t let go. “Just let it happen!” said Zika, grasping the weapon with both hands.
Using her weight, Ysa twisted her body, causing the two of them to roll to the side. Zika kept the knife on her. They fumbled together until they hit a large rock. Zika was on top again, but the weapon had moved. It was inside of Ysa’s stomach.
She screamed at the pain.
“Almost there,” said Zika.
Ysa tried to move the dagger—to pull it free—but Zika would not allow it. She could already feel her strength fading. She had to do something quick. She held her screams and clenched her teeth, then reached at Zika’s eyes.
Pressing her fingers into the woman’s sockets, Ysa made the priestess scream.
Zika loosened her grip, allowing Ysa to push herself free, kicking the woman off of her. She gripped the handle of the weapon buried in her gut, blood soaking through her shirt. Closing her eyes, she yanked the dagger out, spurting red mist into the air.
Zika started to come at her again, but Ysa wouldn’t have it. She leapt at her, taking Zika by the jaw and slamming her into the mud. In the final act, Ysa raised the blade and readied the strike, prepared to do what was necessary. Prepared to kill the witch at last, to do whatever she—
The ground shook.
“KEE, KEE, KEE!” she heard a thunderous voice declare. “KEE KEE KAA!”
“Ysa!” cried Ludo. She looked to see him running toward her with Terry at his side. They were waving their arms and screaming. “Ysa, get away from there!”
The ground shook again.
“KEE KEE KEE!” came the awful sound. “KEE KEE KAA!”
A shadow grew tall over her, beginning from behind. It grew until it covered several steps in front of her, still rising. She turned to see a giant thing, a moving thing, with metal limbs and swords. As
tall as the wall itself, it stood, lording above.
A Guardian of Everlasting, come to smite them all.
******
The Guardian towered over Terry like a skyscraper, its metallic body drenched in the falling rain. It had the shape of an armored man, almost like a samurai from ancient Earth, with various designs across its body. On each arm, it bore two massive swords, very similar in form to the one Terry carried in his hand.
Near the titan’s feet, Ysa struggled with the other priestess, attempting to pin her to the ground. Ludo was already running toward her, waving his arms and screaming. “Ysa, get away!”
She was on top of Zika with the knife to her throat, when she finally saw her husband. The monster raised its weapon high, bringing it down on the two bloodied women as they sat, gawking. Ludo barreled into his wife, knocking her clear. They hit the ground, sliding.
Zika screamed as the blade came down on her, burying her entire body like a worm into the earth. All at once, she was silenced, crushed into a thousand pieces.
The Guardian raised the sword again, pulling it from the mud. Its metal edge was covered in red and brown, blood woven together with mud. “KEE KEE KEE,” sang the hulking beast before turning its sights on Ysa and Ludo. “KEE KEE KAA.”
“No!” screamed Terry. He dived forward, running as fast as his legs would allow, sprinting like a demon toward the Guardian’s back. Without thinking, he slammed his sword into its leg, but the blade deflected off the metallic armor. The Guardian swept one of its weapons at him, like it was trying to swat an annoying fly, but Terry dodged to his side and avoided it.
The Guardian continued in the direction of Terry’s friends, but they were already running.
Terry grabbed a part of the monster’s leg as it walked, holding on with all his strength. He started to climb, trying to make his way to the head. The Guardian quickly noticed.
It stopped, and Terry heard a loud clank coming from its backside, like a vent opening. Almost immediately, there was a rancid, foul smell, like a dead animal, filling and burning his nose and lungs. He coughed repeatedly, but kept his grip on the Guardian’s leg.
Terry’s whole body tensed, all the feeling in his limbs draining out of him. He went completely limp over the next several seconds before finally letting go of the armor plating. Sliding off the monster’s leg, Terry fell into the mud, rolling a few meters before landing in the trench left behind by the sword.
He fell into the remains of the dead priestess, bones and shredded flesh mixed with dirt. Rain continued to fill the crevice, pooling inside. Pieces of Zika’s body lay all around him.
Terry tried to move, but couldn’t. The water from the storm continued to fill the trench, and he feared he might drown before much longer. He had to get out of here. He had to help his friends before they were killed. Get up, he told himself. Get up, before it’s too late.
He concentrated, focusing his energy and relaxing. From deep within his mind, he pulled from his hidden well of strength. He imagined himself at the farm, standing in the autumn sunlight, listening to the birds as they flew overhead. All the rain was gone now, wiped from his reality. All the blood and mud inside this crevice gone and forgotten. Only the dream remained. He stood there in his mind, focusing his thoughts, collecting all the power left in him, every ounce there was to take. He would use it all if he had to. He would give it freely.
Terry felt his foot jerk, and a bit of feeling returned. He moved his fingers next, and then his arms. A few seconds later, he was pushing himself up, the dizziness of the drug finally dissipating.
The pain of his wounds from the other priestess’s spear throbbed intensely. He pushed the feeling back inside himself, focusing instead on the task ahead. He couldn’t slow down, not until the job was done. Not until his friends were safe.
He grabbed the side of the pit. With mud and blood on every inch of his body, he raised himself up, finally standing in the heavy rain.
The Guardian was a hundred meters away now, pursuing his friends. He had to get there, quick.
He started running, rain hitting him in the face, following in the massive footprints of his foe. He reached the titan soon enough, spotting his friends just ahead. Without another thought, he leapt onto the monster’s back and gripped its metal casing. Like before, the Guardian tried to cast him off, but Terry dodged the giant arm and its blade. As it neared him a second time, he anticipated the swing, jumping to the arm and wrapping himself around the hilt. As it brought its hand around to the front, he caught a glimpse of the chest and head. Between them, there was a crevice with enough room to pierce, if he could reach it.
The Guardian’s eye, which had until now been fixated on Ludo and Ysa as they ran, took its focus to Terry, following his every movement. With the full force of its body, it slammed its hand into the ground, nearly dismounting him. He buried his sword between the cracks of the plating, holding on for his life.
With each attempted dismount, Terry felt his wounds sear with pain, pulling him briefly out of his trance. He tried to push the sensation to the back of his mind—to bury it—but every strike brought him further away. If he didn’t do something soon, he’d lose himself to it.
Terry pressed his foot against the hilt, breathing heavily, and with a rising heat in his chest, pushed himself off.
He flung himself toward the Guardian’s chest, hitting it with the full force of his weight, and drove the weapon into the gap between its armor plating. The titan reached for him, but he raised his legs, dodging it, and then buried the rest of the blade inside the crack.
The Guardian’s glowing eye grew bright with white and yellow light, and it cried an awful scream. “KEE KEE KEE!”
Terry pulled the sword from the crack, ripping wires and tearing metal in the process. The beast wailed in protest, slowing its movements, seemingly unable to cope with what was happening. If he could just get inside of it, maybe the fight could be over.
Holding the outer casing, Terry pressed his feet against the neck, and with all the remaining strength he could gather…he pushed.
The chest piece snapped and fell to the ground, landing with a thud in the dirt. The Guardian wavered, nearly stumbling.
Terry could barely hang on anymore, so he let himself fall. He landed on the ground and rolled, then turned to watch the Guardian as it began to scream.
Instead of a mechanical cry, however, there came the voice of a man, erupting from within the Guardian.
Terry stared at what appeared to be a pilot, strapped inside a pod. He had a mask on his face with a tube extending out, but there were several rips in it. The man grasped desperately at the tubing, trying to seal the tears, but it was no use. His face was already losing its color. For whatever reason, he was choking to death.
The pilot’s entire body began to spasm. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he vomited inside his mask. After a few seconds, he stopped moving, dropping his head.
The Guardian froze, too, and the light in its eye faded into nothing. It only stood there, motionless.
Terry stared at the sight before him with absolute bewilderment. What in the hell did he just see? A Guardian with a person inside? But the man was suffocating on the air.
On Variant. Did that mean—
Terry felt a sudden throb of pain in his arm, and then another in his leg. The heat in his stomach was rising. I need to sit, he thought. Just for a second.
He hit the ground with a slight thud, slouching and breathing heavily. He started to close his eyes, tired from everything. So tired.
Another noise came from behind him, snapping him awake. “KEE KEE KEE,” it sang. “KEE KEE KAA!”
The soil beneath him quaked.
“Terry!” called Ludo from afar.
He looked to see his friend running toward him, leaving Ysa behind. She’d made it safely inside the tunnel hatch. Good, thought Terry, barely conscious. At least they’ll be okay. At least I was able to…
A shadow appeared, swallowing him
in darkness. He twisted around, already knowing what he’d find.
Another Guardian of Everlasting, watching with its single, glowing eye.
CHAPTER 17
Leadership Report 221602.521
Recorded 02.27.884
Subtitled: Target Apprehended
GEL: The mission was a success. The young man from Earth has been taken into custody.
KAI: He was nearly killed. Success is hardly the word I would use, Master Analyst.
GEL: The toxin was ineffective, so a more direct means of containment had to be applied. There was no other way.
KAI: A more direct means? The child managed to kill one of our pilots with nothing but a sword. How do you account for such a thing?
GEL: With any luck, we will know the answer soon. The boy’s physiology, coupled with the research Doctor Curie has provided us, will greatly accelerate our own work. I’m certain of it.
KAI: Perhaps, but the mission was still sloppy. We lost a sentry unit, which is sure to anger Master Lao. There are only twelve in active service, and you know how difficult they are to reproduce. Our engineers only have so many fusion cores to work with.
GEL: The other Leaders will understand. The loss of a sentry is worth the knowledge we will gain—
KAI: If the boy is still breathing. The report says the second pilot didn’t even have to attack him. The boy was so exhausted that he collapsed on his own.
GEL: He has several wounds, but they weren’t caused by the patrol. The pilots were specifically ordered to avoid lethal force unless absolutely necessary. Containment was their only goal.
KAI: If the sentries didn’t cause the damage, what did?
GEL: Orbital feed showed an altercation taking place moments before our arrival. We don’t know who started it, and speculation would accomplish little at this stage, but his wounds are consistent with that of a small blade. After a few days of treatment, he should be fully recovered.
