by J Hawk
“Who are you?” he breathed into the screen. “And what kind of sick joke are you trying to play here?”
“A joke, huh?” Eryx uttered a rough chuckle. “Ask yourself if that’s really true, kid.”
He leaned closer to the screen, and lowered his voice so that it was just louder than a hiss.
“Believe me or not, you’re in trouble, kid. And what I’m trying to do, is I’m trying to help you. But it’s your call, whether or not you wanna believe me, and take my help. You wanna turn a deaf ear to me, be my guest … But when the black cloaked creatures reach your apartment, you might feel slightly different.” He must have read the terrified look on Ion’s face for he added, “That’s right - they’re on their way to that apartment you’re in right now.”
“Who are you?” demanded Ion, ignoring the icy sensation within him. “And why’re you so keen to share this with me in the first place?”
Eryx gave Ion a flat stare. “Listen, we don’t have time for this now. I’ll let you know everything when you get down here. You need to meet me where I am now, and I can get you outta this alive. I’m your only way out of this. You’re gonna have to trust me. And believe me when I tell you that you can’t do this alone: you can’t outrun them. They aren’t the same type you met years back.”
“What do you mean?” asked Ion, who could feel his pulse rising.
Eryx shook his head. “They’re not the brutes of the sort you met two years ago … Carcasar’s sent his very best. His most lethal. They’ll be on your tail wherever you go. They’re as intelligent as man beings themselves … If you don’t trust me, you’ll see them approaching your building from out the balcony anytime now.”
Ion turned and sprinted out the balcony with the z-com held in one hand.
“That’s not what I meant! You’re supposed to leave before you see them arriving, kid!” yelled Eryx, rolling his eyes on the screen by Ion’s right.
Ion was peering down the lane out his balcony, his eyes narrowed. He scanned the entire place, trying to find any black cloaked, hooded creatures sprinting towards his building from anywhere.
“I don’t see them.” he said finally.
Eryx slapped his forehead. “I suggest you don’t wait until you do!”
Without taking his eyes off the view of the ghost city outside, Ion nodded. “All right. You say you can … save me from this, huh?”
Eryx nodded. “I can.”
“All right,” Ion said, trying to slow his breath down. “Where do I meet you?”
“Ask for Narcis point.” said Eryx. “Its a few miles from where you’re at. Get there by foot. Don’t stop anywhere. And leave before you wanna see them arriving.” he added, as Ion continued to look out the balcony.
Ion slowly turned and looked at the face in the screen.
“Fine,” he told Eryx. “I’ll be there.”
Eryx nodded, and the screen faded.
Ion pocketed his z-com, his eyes automatically jumping out the balcony again.
For almost three or so whole minutes, he peered down the many streets, trying to see if he could spot any black cloaked, hooded figure coming down them towards his building. But he saw nothing.
They aren’t anywhere near yet … it’s not too late. he concluded at last, feeling some of the panic drain within him. Turning around, he strode back into the room of the apartment.
And standing inside the room were six black cloaked, hooded figures, standing as still as stone.
The Zelgron were already here.
10
Time seemed to suddenly go sluggishly slow, as Ion gaped at the creatures for what felt like a few eternities. In the darkness of his room, nothing could be seen of the terrible features etched below their hoods. All of them stared at him in a thundering silence … and Ion stared back, his blood frozen.
Then, without the press of a conscious thought, he turned and dashed back into the balcony. Before he knew what he was doing, he had thrown himself over the balcony edge, and found himself in a graceful mid air soar…
His body was sucked downwards by the concrete, earthen floor, which came racing up at a mindless speed.
Crawling seconds towards an imminent, painful death, Ion felt everything slow down. His mind went granite in focus. With clarity like never before. He summoned a steady gush of his mystical powers to make his body sway to the right as he soared down, closer to the building nearby. As the edge of a balcony rushed up, Ion threw his arm out with split second precision: not a fraction of a second too late, his arm latched around the wall of the balcony. His fall broken suddenly, his body clashed against the building’s wall. His arm, latched around the wall, almost snapped at the sudden break of his fall.
He took a fleeting second to re gather his breath, his blood racing. Then, climbing onto the balcony of the building, Ion darted into the room. He paused at the room door for a fleeting glance back, and as his vision relayed to him, his heart froze: The Zelgron had reached the balcony in one giant leap from the nearby building, and were straightening up from the heavy landing.
Turning back, Ion fuelled every ounce of energy into his legs as they propelled him through the wrecked house, out its door and into the long balcony outside in a senseless sprint. He knew that the Zelgron had speeds that fell close to even mystics’, but something told him the six he was now dealing with were not the ordinary type he had faced years ago … they were far more powerful: as their leap between the two buildings passed Ion again, panic coursed through him like an electric surge.
Reaching the end of the balcony, he dived down the half torn staircase. As he arrived halfway down the building, he could hear the heavy padding of footsteps above him. Without looking up to see where his pursuers were in the flight of stairs, Ion hurled himself to the bottom of the building from the stairs at the second storey. A heavy thud sounded as he landed on all fours. Picking himself up hurriedly, he tore down the deserted night’s lane, which lay veiled with layers of murky white fog. Desperate, Ion sent his gaze running along both sides of the street in an attempt to find aid of any sort.
Swerving in path, he dashed towards the side of the line of buildings, where lay a large parking lot. With a small group of hover bikes and cars, most of which were visibly wrecked. Spotting a hover bike that wasn’t, Ion ran over and jumped over it. This was a trick he had done before: using his mystical powers, he altered the interior switches keeping the bike locked. And as the lock broke and the bike revved to life, he shot his gaze back down the lane. The Zelgron came racing down the lane towards the field, their horrid faces hidden beneath their hoods.
The bike jumped off the ground with a dry, lurching sensation, turned and shot off into the air. As Ion rose higher and higher from the ground, he felt relief like never before rush through his insides.
It’s over. he thought, his insides unclenching. I’m saved.
But the glance he threw back stripped him of all relief and joy in that very instant: The Zelgron had managed to break into one of the hover cars, and were now sailing through the air right behind him. Ion felt shock and alarm break out within him.
“They’re not the brutes of the sort you met two years ago.” Eryx had warned him. “Carcasar’s sent his very best. His most lethal. They’ll be on your tail wherever you go. They’re as intelligent as man beings themselves…”
Ion inwardly cringed, realising that he should have taken Eryx’s word for it the very moment he had told him this. He sent another glance back. The hover car was tailing behind him, about a twenty metres’ gap between the two of them. Turning back, Ion spun the throttle harder. The bike shot forth with an electric jolt, splitting the air with a new fury. It passed towers higher than the rest of the buildings with a deadly speed. The scrambled maze of the city, more than thirty metres beneath, soared back speedily.
As the roar of the bike’s engine drowned out everything else from his mind, Ion turned back for the second time. And as he did, his hold on the t
hrottle automatically loosened, allowing the bike’s speed to dropped slowly: the Zelgron’s hover car had fallen too far behind to make out, melting behind the haze enveloping the entire city. Ion took advantage of the large gap between them to make an unnoticed diversion: he dived lower into the maze of structures and then cut left, gliding serenely between lines of buildings rising to three or four storeys on both sides. He turned back a final time, to find that the coast behind was just as clear: he had lost them. Or so he hoped.
He slowed down and then took the bike through the balcony of one of the four storeyed buildings which were visibly abandoned. The bike gracefully soared through the large open balcony, which was spread over an elegant area. Ion allowed the bike to float to a stall by the side of the balcony, before sliding off and staggering into the flat through its broken door.
Without even trying to stop himself, he stumbled and hit the floor of the large hall, where he lay panting for a few hazy seconds, his head spiralling.
__________
The memory of the six black cloaked, hooded fiends chasing him, almost catching him…
Ion kept shooting glances out the balcony, terrified that the creatures might zoom in with the hover car and find him here.
The shock of the realisation lingered within him: he had just seen the Zelgron drive a car! The very thought knocked off the boundaries of the world as he had known it, so that everything felt less safe than before … and he felt more vulnerable. Who knew what more they were capable of? Nothing at all felt certain anymore.
Giving himself a minute to steady himself, Ion slowly rose and walked down the large hall. The ceiling and floor of the place were lined with cracks and seemed ready to fall apart anytime now. Like the earlier flat, the furniture were coated with what looked like dust gathered over years. He walked into one of the doors at the end of the room, and found himself in a hallway with dusty old portraits against the walls.
As Ion continued to drift into hallway, pondering his next move, he felt a mild shudder run through the ground … accompanied by a gentle thud.
Spinning around, Ion hurried out into the main hall…
And the six cloaked figures stood there, their outlines slightly blurred in the complete lack of light. They had parked their hover car outside on the balcony, apparently just having exited it. The shudder and the thud had been that of the car landing there.
An icy sensation swooped through Ion’s insides.
And he now realised that he was right, as was Eryx: the Zelgron he was now facing weren’t anything at all like the bunch he had faced three years ago… they were far, far deadlier. And now, they were claiming what they’d come for.
His hand flew to the handle of his sword before any of them made another motion. But the creatures stood there, completely unbothered, as he drew his sword and held it before them.
So be it, then.
Drawing in a quick breath, Ion ignited his sword: the familiar bright orange glow consumed the blade. The sword’s orange light spread across the entire room, sweeping away the state of darkness it had slumbered in till now … And in the light of the room, Ion could see that beneath the hoods of the six cloaked figures, were the faces of completely normal men. Not Zelgron!
All of them stared at him with exasperated, irritated looks on their faces. Mixed with a flicker of amusement.
“You can put that down,” the man in the centre said, pointing to Ion’s sword. “I have no idea why you’ve led us across this senseless chase halfway around the city, but it would be nice of you to stop now. My name is Mantra, and we’d like to talk to you.”
11
“For whatever reason you were running from us,” said another of the cloaked figures, an Iveling with maroon hair. “You can stop now, for heaven’s sake. We’re not with the authorities trying to arrest you for being a mystic. We’re mystics too.”
Ion found his bewilderment rising with every passing second. “You’re mystics?”
He frowned, remembering their uncanny powers which seemed beyond that Zelgron could have knowably achieved. And he realised that it made complete sense. In either case, it bad been a little too bizarre to see Zelgron, half brutes as they were, driving a hover car.
“Yes,” answered the elderly man called Mantra, who was standing right ahead of Ion. He was about two heads shorted than Ion. But a strange power, something transcending the limits of physical dominance, seemed to resonate from him and his calm white eyes. He had a trimmed, white moustache and beard, with the last of his thin white hair on his partially bald head falling loosely over the back of his shoulders. “But not everyday mystics.”
He exchanged a look with the maroon haired Iveling.
“We come from the brotherhood of Nyon.” said the maroon haired man.
Ion found himself floating out his body, as he tried to process this. The prize among the surprises of the day…
“Nyon?” His voice left him as a shrill gasp. “The brotherhood of Nyon?”
His widened eyes darted from the maroon haired man to Mantra, the short elderly one in front of him.
“So you’ve heard of us.” concluded the maroon haired man, nodding. “That makes things a lot easier.”
Ion let his gaze travel across the six cloaked men, all of whom were either middle aged or elderly. When he managed to get a firm grip on what he’d just heard, the shock was quickly overrun by a more powerful emotion: confusion.
“And … did you say you needed me?” he asked slowly.
The six of them nodded as one.
Ion stared.
“Exactly what for?” he asked, perplexed. “What could the ancient brotherhood of Nyon want with me?”
A sad smile crossed Mantra’s face.
“The ancient brotherhood of Nyon.” he repeated softly. “First off, son … we aren’t whatever you’ve heard of us. Not anymore we aren’t. There was a time when the brotherhood was what it was meant to be … during the days of the empire of Sirengard. But now,” He shook his head, a heaviness in his voice. “We’re nothing more than a shadow of our earlier might and prowess: we have been diminished to a very weakened state, following the Naxim’s iron hard stand against mystics. As a matter of fact, it’s rather surprising that we’ve even managed to survive this long.
“Among the scarce mystics found in hiding today, very few want to serve us. In the current, heated anti mystic atmosphere we hardly have new initiates joining us But we need initiates, to carry on our work. To keep our brotherhoood alive. And as a result, we understand that the situation demands action from our side. To ensure that we find new members and keep the Nyon alive … even if it survives as a mere ghost of its former grandeur.
“And so, over the years, we try to keep tabs on stray mystics whom we manage to tread upon. And when we do, if any of these stray mystics that we wander upon believe in the values and ideals that we do, we try garnering their support. Try winning them over to our side, to join us.” He stopped for a quiet sigh. “But it hasn’t been easy, Ion. We are dwindling, and will soon fade … and now is when our might, the might of the last remaining fragment of the age of Elderon, is required. Because there are dark forces like no other waiting to unleash over the spectrum. To plunge it to chaos forever. Now is the time where the world needs our help. But we ourselves need help, Ion.
“Some time back, we found a certain stray mystic. He was a great, shining opportunity, one we’d been yearning for, for too long now. He was our primary target among the stray mystics. But we saw that he needed some time before he could answer our call. We needed to give him some time to grow. And so, we let him be for the time being, watching as he tended to things that fell to his prior importance, before tending to ours. But as we did, he slipped from our watch. Our primary target among the stray mystics. But fortunately, for it is nothing short of the greatest fortune that has granted us this, we managed to get a trace on him, and had him back on our radar just earlier on today. And we’re now standing before him,
explaining ourselves for it.”
Ion had his stare fixed over Mantra many long seconds after he’d finished. He needed to work through a daze to digest and absorb what he had just heard. They’ve been watching me…
“You said you found this certain stray mystic, who was your primary target,” he said at last. “But you didn’t really elaborate how. Exactly how did you manage to find me? Or that I was a mystic?”
Mantra held his eyes for a moment, and the hint of a smile touched his lips. “Vestra.”
“Who?” asked Ion.
“We’re assuming you remember the person who saved you from the Zelgron two years back?” asked the maroon haired man, stepping forward beside Mantra.
Ion’s gaze went far off for a moment, as the memory caught up with him. And as it did, in a jolt everything added up to make complete sense.
The girl… He thought. The one who saved me from the Zelgron…
He looked at Mantra, stunned. “The Nyon … it was you! You were the mystic crime fighters that she said she was working for.” The thought that that young woman he had met had been a member of the Nyon left him momentarily overwhelmed with shock.
