by J Hawk
As the three of them looked across the bank, Ion went wild with panic: emerging from the tree trunks they were hiding behind of, pouring into the open, came a fleet of men in black cloaks. Some of them were holding bows, reaching into their trove of arrows slung behind them. But most others were drawing long, thin swords … the greenery of the forest was suddenly lit with bright orange flashes as the mystics ignited their swords. Their blades were then shining in orange. In a spiralling moment, the revelation collided with the three of them as they saw this.
“Xeni…” breathed Vestra, the blood draining from her face.
The mob of black robed mystics charged at them from the other side, dashing through the shallow waters of the lake ahead of them. The spear wielders raised a second spear, waiting to hurl it, the archers strung their arrows into their bows and pulled …
The three of them acted in almost telepathic unison: they held up their hands, and the combined flow of their energies conjured a shield right ahead of them. Ion funneled his thoughts into a razor like sharpness as their combined energies struggled to hold up the shield: the shimmering glass like surface took a heavy impact, a dozen spears and arrows smashing against it and breaking.
The gang of black cloaked Xeni abandoned long aim and plunged into the lake, swimming across with dolphin like swiftness.
The three of them left the shield to melt back into thin air, turning and dashing back into the temple. They sprinted the length of the building’s side, evading stray spears and arrows sent at them by the first Xeni who emerged from the lake’s waters.
“We have to warn the masters!” Ion panted, as he ran alongside the other two.
Their breaths storming, the three of them arrived at the entrance of the structure. There were masters sitting around the centre of the large hall. Before the three Nyon could raise the call and alert them of the attack, Rash-cons flooded the hall from the entrances spread around its corners … The Xeni had brought what looked like an army along with them, a deviously large one.
The robots swept the hall, surging in from all sides. A rain of Sparkler shots filled the hall as the Rash-cons opened fire at the masters, who sprang to their feet, reaching for their swords in realisation of what was going on…
Mayhem erupted like a nuclear blast.
Before they knew it, the masters were spread over the large hall to face the enemy onslaught, all their swords drawn and ignited. Ion turned and was shocked to see that Vestra and Qyro, who had been standing right behind him, were now dragged off to two different corners, both of them surrounded by Rash-cons. They had their ignited swords cutting down three of the robots in one slash, both fierce as the light blazing from their swords.
Ion reached for his own sword, turning back. But before his head finished spinning around to face what was ahead of him, a sharp pounding pain hit him by the centre of his chest … and he was flying back. His half drawn sword slipped and went flying off his grasp.
As he hit the cold ground, he saw the cloaked hooded figure who had punched him standing over him … drawing his sword and igniting it. The Xeni lunged at Ion before he could pick himself up, forcing him to roll over on the ground to miss the man’s saber by a deadly inch. The man stumbled forward, having missed his target. Ion had the fraction of a second: without raising himself, he curled his fist and sent his knuckles slamming into the man’s face. The force of the blow heaved the man off his feet, and he landed feet away from Ion, unconscious.
The battle now mounted in ferocity, with black cloaked figures locked in saber duels all around.
Now triggered into lightspeed alertness, Ion picked himself up, snatched his sword back from the floor, and ignited it. Less than a second later, he was surrounded by a cluster of seven Rash-cons, their guns spurting jets of light at him. Ion used his sword to block two of the Sparkler shots, lunging off the way of another two. He then sent a sideways slash that ripped through three of the robots’ bodies. The remaining four continued to pour Sparkler bolts out at him, forcing him to dodge and duck insanely. One of the shots clipped him by the forearm, and a seething pain exploded where the shot hit.
He stumbled backwards with a sharp gasp, while the four Rash-cons continued to rain shots at him. Summoning every ounce of his will, he ignored the pain of the shot, using one arm now to spin his sword and block the oncoming jets of light. The Rash-cons gained dominance, pushing Ion back. He heaved an enormous breath and flung both arms forth towards the four Rash-cons. A smash exploded into existence and glided towards the robots. As it hit them, the four Rash-cons crumpled and soared back in a clutter of broken body parts.
Ion steadied himself with another deep breath. The pain of the Sparkler shot son his right arm had faded slightly. As he scanned the hall, he spotted a fallen Nyon master, surrounded by a Xeni and five other Sparkler wielding Rash-cons … The Xeni raised his shining blade, moving in for the kill…
Ion turned and sprinted towards them. He slammed into the Xeni from behind him, and the man tripped over the fallen master painfully, his sword clattering to the ground. The five Rash-cons slowly re focussed their aims to the new target, but before any of them opened fire, Ion let fly two clean slashes of his sword. The robots, sliced in more than one part of their body, fell to the ground. Where Ion’s sword had cut them, a mild orange radiation glow lingered. As Ion reached for the fallen master, the Xeni behind him rose, summoning his sword to his hand with his mystical powers. Ion pushed the master back to the ground as the Xeni launched towards them, his sword raised.
The man’s blazing sword landed over Ion’s with a loud, metallic cling, and the two of them stood there, their sabers locked, for a long moment. Their eyes drilling into each other. And then, Ion pushed the man back, releasing his sword, and jabbed at him. The Xeni blocked his sword with a sideways swipe, and Ion had less than a fragmented second to pull his sword back before him to defend his chest from the Xeni’s razor speed attack.
As the two of them duelled, the chaos around them seemed to climb, towering beyond control. Agitation, discord and panic thundered all around them. Loud, groundshaking blasts sounded at distant areas of the temple, revealing that the battle had now swarmed over the entire temple to engulf all regions of it.
Ion felt himself gain a sliver of dominance over his opponent, and pushed him back step by step, blow by blow … But just when the scale had begun to tip towards his side, another Xeni leapt into the fray from the confusion around them, taking up arms against Ion.
Now forced to fend against two opponents, Ion couldn’t spare them the splinter of a moment: his every move raced death by mini seconds as he fended off two cloaked, hooded figures, parrying two ignited swords and trying twice as hard not to die. Ion could have defeated both of them in a single, one on one match, being shades stronger than both of them. But now, with both of them now pitted together against him, the enemies gained the upper hand. His spirits ebbed slowly, with the duel now dragging him backwards: every blow the two Xeni sent him carried Ion a step back. Before they knew it, the three of them had exited the hall, and were fighting in one of the temple’s corridors, the orange light of their blades seeming to dance over the walls and ceiling.
__________
It had been building…
The agitation that Mantra had been experiencing off late had been building steadily.
But just less than a few minutes ago, something had cracked … The chaos he was feeling had spiralled well off limits. A sudden turbulence like nothing before had swept through Mantra. Possessed him.
It was the worst he had felt in eight thousand years…
Now, as he sat in the same room calmly, listening to the rumblings of the battle all across the Nyon temple, he knew…
He knew what the source of this chaotic disturbance that he had been sensing was…
“So, you’ve returned,” He turned his head mildly to one side as he said it. “old friend.”
Redgarn slowly stepped throug
h the balcony outside, walking into his room. A dull shudder rocked the place as another explosion took off somewhere elsewhere in the battle torn temple.
“You must have missed me,” said Redgarn, a mad smile hanging on his lips. “a
very great deal.”
He looked half deranged, with strands of thick, tousled hair falling over both sides of his face. His skin was crimson, and his eyes bore the same maddened red gleam that Mantra had seen him last with.
“I missed the side of you that had died eight thousand years back.” said Mantra, now standing and facing his ancient nemesis, who had rushed back across the ages to haunt him. “And that side remains dead.”
Redgarn’s grin spread longer, and he held his sword loosely in one hand, standing where he was.
“It’s time to learn my pain, Mantra.” he said, his voice sinking to a whisper, but growing louder with menace. “The anguished pain which you thrust over me. And the pain which I was forced to carry for eight thousand years.” He took a step forward, and ignited his sword, so that the dazzling orange flash lit the air in the room for a mean moment. “Now, you will feel the fire that you ignited in my soul.”
He raised his sword and pointed it at Mantra. Who stood as still as ever, his hazy white eyes unflinching. “It’s finally time, Mantra. Time to finish it. Today, we will finish what we started eight thousand years back … We will become one.”
“That, we will.” Mantra nodded.
“One,” said Redgarn. “shall stand. One shall prevail. One shall emerge at the end of this day, and the other falls. To oblivion.”
Eyes locked with those of the minion standing ahead of him, Mantra slowly rose. Time had gone stainlessly slow. He clasped his sword’s handle, and the slithery rush of the blade being drawn filled the room. Mantra felt his heartbeat. Every one of it. Timed with a large, elegant pause between each other. He brought his raised sword to point the right wall, his eyes fastened over Redgarn’s.
A crisp, orange flash lit the room as Mantra ignited his sword. And the familiar, bright orange light consumed the sword’s blade. For the first time after eight thousand years.
They stood there, eyes boring into each other. One’s hazy and white, calm. And the other’s maniacal and red, glowing with madness.
That second seemed to expand into a century…
And then, the two ancient enemies swept their swords around at once, and launched onto each other with a wild battle cry tearing from their throats…
__________
Ion parried the blow at the speed of sound and spun about to block the other’s. He felt the dominance of his two opponents cast over him like a net, dragging his spirits down. They were now moving further down the hall. Wild shudders broke over the walls around them, as though some other part of the massive temple had just been blown.
One of the Xeni lunged at Ion, who had the split second to toss himself off the way. He gained advantage over the other by smacking his chest hard with his flat hand, so that the man yelped and staggered back. The other one spun about just in time to take the place of his companion and brought his blazing sword in a heavy sideways slash at Ion. His knuckles white with the grip over his sword, Ion raised it just in time to block the shot, leaving a burst of sparks in air around them as the two blades met.
The second Xeni ran at him from the side, and Ion withdrew his blade and stepped back, letting the first trip forward. He twisted around and struck the second Xeni by the side. A heavy cling sounded in the air as their blades fell over each other for the hundredth time, emitting the same shower of sparks around.
As the duel heated up, they found themselves slipped into one of the doorways, and in a large room. Ion felt himself pushed back behind the room, dodging and fending for his life from the two deadly Xeni.
But in a second, it was over: Ion had been thrust to the ground, with his sword having flown off his hand. His two duel opponents stood over him, sneering at him in the glow from their swords, allowing themselves the moment to bask in the glory of their triumph over one of their long hated enemies. Ion lay on the floor, helpless, as the two men clutched blazing swords. As he watched his doom seal itself, he felt no fear, no melancholy … he felt a sense of calmed acceptance.
The two Xeni exchanged a fleeting, savage grin, then raised their blades. The fanatical glow of orange seemed to sharpen in the room as their blades plunged towards him…
“Stop.” Hissed a voice from the back of the room.
The two Xeni over Ion froze the very instant, turning to a third cloaked figure at the back of the room. He had apparently climbed in through the balcony at the back. Taking a step forward, the man let his hood fall.
Ion felt a sense of chilling horror at what he was seeing.
It was a man with pale skin, long black hair hanging in frames on both sides of his face. But the man’s eyes … He had no eyes! Two empty, black sockets stared out. And they were focussed right on Ion, as though they could see him. Ion felt a stab of unworldly terror.
“Leave him.” Zardin hissed. “He’s mine.”
Not daring to disobey their leader, the two Xeni backed off and vanished behind the door of the room, joining the battle elsewhere.
A thoroughly perplexed Ion slowly rose to his feet, his widened eyes locked over the ghastly looking Xeni before him. The man dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out a rolled parchment. He unrolled it, surveyed it with his blank eyes for a second, before turning it over for Ion to see.
It was the criminal poster of Ion.
“From the glowing red eyes to the pale skin, to the evil smile.” The man paused, his blank eyes running up and down Ion in a curious manner. “I really expected more … for the deadly killer I thought you were, at least.”
“Who are you?” panted Ion, bending and picking up his sword again. “What do you want?”
Zardin smiled. “I gave you a chance, Ion. I sent Xare to you, and I hoped you might join us. But you didn’t, did you? You decided to ignore us and run off to them.” He clucked his tongue, shaking his head admonishingly. “Not impressed. Not one bit. I was hoping better,” He raised the poster higher, beckoning to it with his sword. “from someone like this.”
“You were wrong.” said Ion. “and I’m not what you see in that poster anymore.”
Zardin savoured what he was hearing. A soft laugh emitted from his throat.
“When I found out about you, about the enormity of the crimes you’d committed two years back,” His head swung to face the poster held by his right again. “I was truly impressed, Ion. I took a certain liking to you. That’s an achievement from your side.”
Ion stood there, his jaws locked. He said nothing, though it was obvious that he wanted to.
Zardin rolled the parchment and stuffed it back into his pocket again. “I did my research on your childhood, your past before I decided to set you as a target for my ally. I know of everything you faced, boy. Everything that you went through … and it then occurred to me that I had gone through it, too. Your pain and your misery. I had faced all of it too, boy.”
He lowered his voice to a bare air piercing hiss.
“The two of us … we are the same, Ion.” He took a step forward to Ion, less than a metre away from him. “Both mystics who have seen the truth. And who have embraced it. We faced the same pain, underwent the same suffering. And that is what brings us to who we are today. We are one of a kind, you and I.”
“Whoever you are, I’m nothing like you!” Ion spat, his voice quaking.
Zardin tossed his head back and released a nasty, ringing laugh.
“I know it all, Ion.” He whispered, enjoying the effect that was to come. “I know everything about your past … all that you’ve done.” He felt his lips twist in a cruel smile. “The Xeni have contacts with terror groups all over the world … including Grando’s terror group.”
Ion’s orange eyes filled with anguish and hatred. His breath seemed to have frozen.
&nbs
p; Zardin let his nasty smile stretch longer. “That’s right. I know it all. Everything you’ve done. Everyone you’ve killed … including your own brother.”
Ion ignited his sword, and the orange light gleaming in the blade formed a mirror for the anger and hatred rising within him now.
With a roar of rage, he hurtled onto Zardin, who calmly ignited and raised his own sword. The cling of their blades meeting pierced the air, sharp and steely.
Zardin withdrew his saber and sent a wild strike at Ion’s left. The boy’s eyes widened slightly, evidently alarmed at the speed and deadliness of this opponent. Not what he’d been expecting. He spun just in time to let his sword block Zardin’s, and a cloud of sparks burst as their swords clashed fiercely.
Zardin lunged forth, unleashing another furious set of jabs. Ion seemed to hold his breath, swinging his sword in a wild fury to block the attacks. He blocked the final strike and then gritted his teeth as he hurled forward, his sword flying in the first offensive maneuver … which Zardin blocked with a lazy flick of his blade.
“You’ve chosen the wrong side, dear boy.” said Zardin, hurling another slash at Ion, who had spun his own sword just in time to block it. “And now, you pay the price. You die.”
