Void Emissary: The Book of the Void Part 1

by Lon Varnadore

  “How are we going to get—“

  Before Kyp could continue, Pieter launched the cutter. He shot past a group of bugmen who rushed towards him. They didn’t stop and were crushed by the cutter’s prow. “This thing have a core that can get us anywhere, Kyp?”

  “Yes Sempai. Not great, but we can—“

  “Good, all I needed to know.”

  Pieter grabbed onto the throttle and pushed it forward. He also hit the small æther screw control. There was a sound of the thing powering up as it started to twist around seeking æther was grating. Pieter preferred to have it on for his plan.

  “Sempai, we still don’t have an exit.”

  “You know why most of the worlds don’t use these kind of ships, Kyp?” Pieter reached out with the Void, digging into the bulkhead and twisting. The thin bulkhead began to buckle. When Kyp said he didn’t, Pieter continued. “Because the æther causes more corrosion on their metal hulls. And even the thickest armor can be punctured through.” Pieter created a hole in the hull, causing the æther to spill in, sweeping through the hanger bay.

  “Why didn’t you do that when we were in that cargo room?” Kyp shouted. “Sempai,” he added as an afterthought.

  Pieter let it pass. “Because then, I didn’t want Harkness to know my true strength.” As the cutter shot through the hole, Pieter could see that the æther was already starting to eat away at the ship. The thin protective shell around the ship compromised. Pieter knew he had doomed this ship. “Now, we can get to Callisto.”

  Pieter started to program the navigation coordinates to his home planet, the instruments were advanced and accepted his input with minimal stress. Pieter stood up to stretch. The hardest part was done. Without the Void, it would have still taken hours for him to program everything in. He released the Void and sat in one of seats that sat perpendicular to the pilot and co-pilot seat. Pieter hurt. He felt his body protest from the fight with the blackguard, the escape and the fatigue of holding the Void for so long. He needed to sleep for a week. Not yet, not until—

  Kyp was in one of the seats that faced Pieter. He looked as weary as Pieter felt. Then, his face changed to horror. He stood up and jumped into the helmsman position. “We need to go faster.”

  “Why?”

  “Can’t you feel that? That dreadnought’s core is going to go any second and—“

  A wave of energy and the explosive fire of æther set ablaze struck the cutter hard. The two were jostled and tossed around when the cutter’s core failed for a moment. They were weightless for long enough to make Pieter’s stomach flutter and jump into his throat twice. Then, Kyp wrestled with the controls and the two were back to moving smooth.

  “We survive,” Kyp asked, cracking open an eye.

  “You sound shocked,” Pieter said.

  “I’m just—“

  “We are alive. Follow the coordinates I plugged in. I need to rest.”

  “Sempai? Where are we headed?”

  “To Callisto, my home.” Pieter settled back into the seat. “It will take some time, but you can manage.”

  “What will you be doing?”

  Pieter closed his eyes and started to meditate. “Resting.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  They flew the cutter over the small city of Strahdheim. It was a small village that clung to the side of the coast. Though, Pieter knew to well about the people who lived there. On the other side of the cliffs was the main starport of the planet with larger cities. Yet, Strahdheim and the manorhouse on the top of the hill overlooking the town was their destination. A fog filled the viewport and surrounded the manor.

  “Sempai, your home is…creepy.”

  “Thank you, apprentice. I’ll make sure to bring that up to the tourism board,” Pieter said looking at his apprentice.

  “Sempai, it looked like people already—“

  “I used the ansible to tell them we were coming.”

  “Why, Sempai? You told me yourself that your brother hates you and would try to kill you.”

  “He will try. But, I have one right I used.”

  “What?”

  “I’m the eldest. Regardless of my position in the Embassy, for House Strahd, being the eldest means I have a chance to turn aside the title and give it to my brother.”

  “Will you?”

  “I need access to the archive. I have no need for the title.”

  “Sempai, what are we going to do?”

  “I have to go and talk to him,” Pieter said.

  “He said he was going to kill you.”

  “He’s my brother. He does that often.”

  The two kept walking, Kyp’s movements barely keeping up with the long stride of Pieter. He had on the midnight blue cloak he had worn since escaping the Embassy, and the cream vest and black pants and boots. The sword at his side was clipped and held in place with a piece of cord. “Peacebonding” is what Pieter called it.

  Kyp had done the same with his own sword. He felt the hatred and anger pouring off Pieter’s brother Charles. Charles looked very much like Pieter, a little bulkier than Pieter’s lithe form, yet a similar pointed jaw and hawk nose. Charles also had a thin goatee that was silly looking, yet Kyp knew better than to remark on it.

  Charles Strahd was surrounded by men in the black and cream of the Strahd house guard. All held plasma throwers and had helms with thick smoked-glass goggles. He had heard of the Strahd house and knew what the Strahd soldiers could do.

  “It is good to see you again, brother,” Pieter said, coming to a stop in front of Charles. He thrust out a black leather gloved hand and gave Charles a small smile. “What has it been, ten years?”

  “Fifteen,” Charles said, looking at the offered hand with contempt. He turned to look at Kyp, and the youth saw a thin white scar on Charles’ face. “What are you doing here? You were cast out of the house when they found out you were one of them.”

  “Brother, please. I have need of the Shadow Archive.”

  “Not bloody likely,” Charles said. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t duel you right now?” His hand dropped to a wicked-looking saber.

  “One, I have trained with far better swordsman than father could hire. Two, there is no need for bloodshed.”

  “I beg to differ; you are the one who turned your back on your duty when mother died. When father died. You are a black spot that this family needs to be rid of.”

  Kyp saw that Pieter gripped his hands, heard his breathing change. “You don’t have to follow the old ways so blindly. I am you blood. Does that mean nothing—”

  Charles jerked out his sword and gave a wild slash at Pieter. Kyp leapt to one side as Pieter leapt backwards, hand on his sword. “You would attack someone with a peace bound weapon?”

  “Your kind doesn't need those swords. You didn’t need it when you gave me this,” Charles said, pointing the long thin scar across his forehead.

  “I was young; I didn't know what I could do. I have apologized, hundreds of times for that.”

  “Too little too late, brother.”

  Pieter sighed. “You don’t want to do this.” He dropped his hand to his sword and started to pull at the peace bonding. “You will not survive this.”

  “Let’s just see who will survive,” Charles shouted. He lunged towards Pieter again, his sword flicking out to strike at Pieter.

  Pieter countered with a block. He moved with a fierce grace, blocking the saber cuts and thrusts again and again. He whirled around, blocking the swings of his brother. Charles started to puff away a bit, his thrusts and cuts less wild and more calculated. Charles found an opening that Pieter wanted. Kyp watched as Pieter slammed his brother’s sword down, elbowing Charles in the face. He then grabbed Charles with the Void and held him hanging in midair.

  “What are you—”

  Pieter clutched his hand and Charles stopped talking. The soldiers started to move, and Pieter said, “I know what the Strahd militia can do. But, I can twist him in half before you could take me do
wn. Back off!” They stepped back as one. “Good.”

  He looked up at his brother. “I came here peacefully. You mocked it. Therefore, I will take what I need. You will grant me access to the archives. If not, I can simply kill you and rip the doors off on my own.”

  Charles grew apoplectic. He screamed out, “Never. The doors remained forever closed to you.”

  Pieter let out a growl and slammed Charles to the ground. Charles’ head bounced hard, and Kyp thought his Sempai was going to do something horrible. He went to his sword when Pieter slammed his sword down. Right next to Charles’ face. “Damn it brother. Why do you have to be such a jackass?”

  “You… you said you would,” Charles looked at his brother. He looked far off for a moment. “I am sorry brother, you are right, I was a fool. Help me up?”

  Pieter put out his hand and pulled his brother up. They clasped each other on the back and Charles said, “The archive is open to you. Please, take your time.” Kyp saw Charles hand Pieter a small tube that glinted in the light of the witchlight lanterns.

  “Thank you, but we will be brief.”

  “Of course.”

  Kyp caught up to Pieter as he strode towards the manorhouse. “What happened Sempai?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You tinkered with his mind,” Kyp said. He made sure they were out of earshot. “I felt it.”

  “I had to. It was the only way.”

  “Didn’t you say that it was forbidden?”

  Pieter rounded on Kyp. “Do not lecture me, apprentice. We needed to get in here. I feel terrible if that makes you feel any better.”

  “Not really Sempai. I’m disappointed.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Pieter walked with a hurried step towards the manorhouse, through the door and towards the elevator towards the below ground vault. He walked past stunned guards and livered servants. They tried to say something, a “welcome back, Master Strahd.” However, he walked past them all, not wanting to stop. He was here. He was home and all he wanted was to find out a name to label his enemy. With a name, you have some power over an enemy, Saheed had always said.

  Kyp silently walked behind him. Pieter felt the sting of the mild rebuke of his apprentice. It was true, he had done something that he had scolded Kyp for earlier. Yet, it was needed. There was a part of him that believed it. You even said you’d give the title over. Why?

  Because of how Charles had greeted him. With violence and a demand to leave. Bastard, all he had to do…It didn’t matter now. He was close to the end. Find out where these things had come from, what they wanted. Something to get a handle on them and begin to stop them.

  He and Kyp found himself in front of a massive set of witchwood doors. Pieter had seen it before, not taking in the majesty as he had when he first did. He heard Kyp take a breath and a step back, looking at the massive door and the runes and sigils that adorned it. Pieter’s eyes had a narrow focus. The small lock at his eyes level, an octagonal hole that would take one kind of key.

  He pressed the pointed crystal tube into the hole. It fit perfectly, as he knew it would. With a deep breath, he pressed his thumb to the opening and felt a small sting. The peach colored tube turned crimson as it filled with a small sample of his blood.

  And, now I find out if my DNA will still be in the archive computer.

  He opened his mouth to tell Kyp to fetch his brother, when the tube slid into the recess of the lock and the doors cracked open. They moved on silent rollers, massive doors that were a foot thick of witch wood to allow Pieter inside. He slid between the crack of the door. He turned to see the door snapped shut before Kyp could walk through. It was better this way.

  Sempai! You said—

  It is better this way. Keep an eye out for Benny. And on my brother.

  Y-Y-Yes sempai.

  Pieter took a deep breath. He had not been in the Archive in a long long time. He remembered when he was first shown the large archive, and the rows upon rows of knowledge that was stored here. Secret knowledge that set it apart from the Strahd Library. He couldn’t see the bottom of the archive, then or now as he stared down into the abyss of the mile deep hole that was central shaft of the archive. And the weak light of the witchlight barely reached more than a handful of feet down to rows upon rows of books, scrolls, steles and info cubes. He remembered how he had once wanted to see all of the archive. To study the lengths and breadth of its vastness.

  Before he knew what he was and before he had hurt Charles.

  He knew that he shouldn’t have done what he did to Charles. Yet, it was the only way to get inside. He had to do it. It was the best way.

  Was it Master Strahd?

  Pieter looked around and saw the smooth featureless “face” of the archive tender. A Zin named Gyrndal. He was tall and lanky, like all of his race. The gray pale creature moved forward on backward bent legs and feet that splayed out a foot in any direction. He strode closer and closer to Pieter, his featureless face causing Pieter to feel the same strange sense of horror. I am an Emissary, stop it.

  “Is there an issue, Master Strahd?” Gyrndal asked. The words were out loud, yet they resonated in Pieter’s head. It was weird that the Zin never verbalized anything. As far back as Pieter could remember, he had never heard Gyrndal speak verbally.

  “I am well, Gyrndal. It has been some time,” Pieter said. He always felt unnerved by Gyrndal, even when as a youth he loved to explore the Shadow Archive.

  “It has, hasn’t it?” Gyrndal moved a little closer, standing seven and and half feet tall, though looked as though a stiff breeze could blow the emaciated looking Zin away. Pieter knew that the Zin as a race were gone, a handful of them survived in various holds and houses.

  I wonder if he knows of the deaths?

  “Yes, Master Strahd, I do. I felt the deaths, as did all of my brothers,” Gyrndal said with a note of sadness. “There were more than a few deaths.”

  “Why?”

  “Other Shadow Archives must be expunged without a Zin to watch over them. As was the rule,” Gyrndal. “Have you come to put my archive to the sword?”

  “No, no Gryrndal. I need you help. There is something. Something from long ago you showed me.”

  Gyrndal held up a six fingered hand. Two thumbs, one on either side of the elongated fingers that looked as delicate as glass and as long as Pieter’s forearm. “I know, Pieter. I am the one who showed it to you, and the one who helped you remember.”

  “How?”

  “The Zin have their ways,” Gyrndal said with a smile in his voice.

  “Then, you will show me what I need?”

  “Yes…and no.”

  “I don’t have time for you games, Gyrndal. I need the information,” Pieter said, moving closer to the Zin.

  Gyrndal held up a small cube as Pieter shouted at him. “This will tell you what you need to know. But, once you see it, it will be gone.”

  Pieter stopped, looking at Gyrndal with a look of shock. “But I need to show the others about this. The Embassy, my Sempai at the very least needs—”

  “They will know, eventually.” Gyrndal’s voice felt cold and Pieter couldn’t help but repress a shiver.

  “I don’t want—“

  Gyrndal pressed the cube into Pieter’s hand. A light emerged from the cube, striking Pieter in the face. He felt himself being pulled away. He had used a Zin info cube before, yet this was different. Something was very final about it.

  Pieter looked around and saw himself on Mars. The hills of the Tharsis Plains were lush with grass, clouds dark with the threat of rain and the smell of brine from the ocean behind him. It was a very different planet than the arid desert wasteland, yet in his mind, he knew this was Mars. Before him were hundreds of humans, many Martians with their long thing bodies, and Zin. Hundreds of them. Each of them had the black garb of the Emissaries, yet he saw no crests of the different orders. All of them bore weapons of some kind that were of witchwood. And, they were fighting men. The men
were clad in the ancient house colors, many of them bore emblems of the old Confederation. The men that the Emissaries fought moved as if on puppet strings. Pieter felt a cold sense of dread fill his stomach. They were dead, and something like the things he had faced at the village.

  Khal.

  The name came from nowhere. The voice sounded much like Gyrndal, though that made no sense. Yet, he knew that the name what the Emissaries faced. The Emissaries fought long and hard, cutting through the dead like wheat. A few of the Emissaries had fire erupt from heir hands, or pits opening in front of a group of a Martian Emissary. Time warped and twisted, speeding up and slowing down as it did when Pieter used one of the Zin info cubes. One of the Zin Emissaries was a Healer, no arms at all, yet three blades of witchwood whirled around him. Two were swords much like Piter’s saber. The other was a double bladed weapon with a central circular handhold. All of the witchwood spun and whirled around the Healer like a shield. Pieter was shocked. He had thought those secrets lost.

  They were. Watch Wolfing.

  Pieter shook his head and continued to watch as the soldiers kept coming. The Emissaries were valiant. Yet, the numbers grew to many. The Zin and the humans and Martians were slaughters from fatigue. Three score humans and a handful of Zin were the only ones to cut down the last of the dead humans and near-humans. Pieter looked around, thinking that the Khal had been killed off. And then on the plains before the large ocean, he saw a handfuls of the blackguard Khal. They flew above more hordes of undead and the the Khal soldiers, the bugmen that had attacked Benny and had been on the dreadnought. The blackguard held strange devices that were attached to their bodies. Metal interlaced their bodies, half of their skin covered in a burnish metal while the rest was the coal black of the strange carapace.