by Ashley West
“Are you brooding again?”
The derisive voice cut through his thoughts, and he looked up to see three of his fellow warriors standing there, watching him with nearly identical looks of exasperation.
“I am not brooding,” Luther replied. “I don’t brood.”
“You do. You really do,” Jalal said, shaking his head. “You just stand there, staring off into the distance, and we can all tell that you’re thinking deep, pensive thoughts.”
"That's just called thinking," Luther argued, although he didn't really know why he was bothering. Arguing with Jalal was like trying to get his brother Amon to stop drinking. Fruitless and frustrating.
"Uh huh," said Amon as he stood there with the others. "Sure it is. Because you definitely weren't thinking something deep and pensive about the tranquility of water and how we all eventually go back from whence we came or something like that."
Luther tried not to let it show on his face that Amon was right, but he'd never been very good at hiding his emotions.
Jalal, Amon, and Drai roared with laughter at his expense, and Luther rolled his eyes. "Let's just go," he said, not giving them the satisfaction of seeing him embarrassed.
They walked on down to the shore, trading barbed comments and friendly insults as they went.
There were two different ways to go into the ocean at this part of the shoreline. You could dive off one of the large, jagged rocks that jutted up from the sand, or you could melt.
Melting was one of the many talents that they possessed. It allowed them to call on the water in their bodies and push it through the rest of them, turning their forms to liquid. It was dangerous, of course, as it was very easy to lose your grasp on what your solid self felt like when you were sliding around all melted. It was also notoriously hard to do in the water because everything around you was liquid, and remembering to be solid was a struggle.
There were tales of those who had lost themselves completely by melting into the water and never coming back. Luther didn't want that to happen to him, so he usually chose to dive off the rocks.
Jalal, surprising no one, stood on the shore and then let his body go liquid before he slid into the ocean.
"He's going to lose himself doing that one day," Amon muttered, watching as the puddle that was his brother slipped towards the tide line.
Drai laughed. "Jalal? Doubt it. Never met a more self-assured person in my life. He's never gonna forget who he is."
Amon and Drai climbed up the rocks with Luther, and they dove into the water one right after the other, leaving perfect, tiny little splashes in their wake.
It was beautiful under the water, all murky and dark. The water was clean, free of pollution and trash and anything else that could contaminate it. Tendrils of sea flora waved in the water, and down below there were thriving communities of multi colored coral and plants.
No matter the temperature of the water, it always felt perfectly warm to Luther. He held his breath for a moment, while his body transitioned to being able to handle the water, and then he began to swim downward, towards the skeleton-like remains of the structures of old.
These were the true treasures of Lin-Vayel.
At first, it was thought that the people who had lived on this planet hundreds of thousands of years ago, their ancestors, had lived on dry land. And then something cataclysmic had happened, and water flooded over eighty percent of the planet. But that theory had been destroyed by the records they'd found in the ruins that ran for hundreds of miles under the water.
The water had always been there, and their people had made their homes in it.
A whole underwater civilization, built to withstand the crushing pressure of the water and all the other negative effects.
It was a tremendous discovery, and while most warriors spent their time trying to protect the people or waging wars, the warriors of Lin-Vayel were explorers. They dove deep into the water and explored the ruins, learning about those that came before them and the way life was then.
They found hidden treasures and old troves of books and scrolls and brought them back to display before their queen. It was her goal that the entirety of the underwater ruins would be mapped one day, from one side of the planet to the other, and the warriors and their talents were uniquely suited for the task.
Luther swam quickly, like he was born for it, and the others followed. Up ahead, Jalal was reforming himself slowly, a limb at a time. They gave him a wide berth, though Amon slowed down to make sure it went alright.
Drai pulled out his tablet (waterproof, like everything in Lin-Vayel was made to be), and he called up the holo map of the ruins that they were working on. It was linked with every other map that had been made by every other warrior, so no one would spend time exploring the same places more than once.
They, and the newly reformed Jalal clustered around the map, getting their bearings.
Luckily, they were near where another group had left off. The jagged, L shaped structure that was partially crumbled in front of them was still unexplored, and so they formed their line to go in and start.
They always went in fours. Two in front and two behind. The first two combed through the room, looking for any large, obvious finds and any signs of danger. They dealt with the danger, pulled out any chests or big things and then kept moving, leaving the last two to gather everything and look for any hidden treasures. If they needed help, they called for it, and the first two would return. In the end, they would mark where they had been and add it to the map, gather whatever they could carry back to the surface on their own, and leave the rest for the extraction teams and their crates.
It was a straightforward process, and usually the only danger they faced came in the form of unstable structures, poisonous plants, and large underwater creatures.
They'd never run into bandits or anything like that.
Anyone from their own people would leave them alone and go on their way, and they'd yet to encounter anyone who wasn't from Lin-Vayel. So it was sure to be smooth sailing, as the phrase went.
This trip however, was not, as the phrase went, smooth sailing.
Luther was beginning to wonder if this whole thing had been cursed from the beginning. They'd had to fight off not one, but two sea dragons: large, spiny reptiles of the sea that could shoot jets of boiling hot water from their mouths and nostrils and usually lurked in deeper water than this. There had been a collapse of part of the structure they were in, and Amon had only nearly avoided being crushed by melting at the last second.
They'd waited for him to reform and then come to the unanimous decision to take it slower from there.
It was a good thing, too, because they were able to see the group of treasure hunters or whatever they were before the group saw them.
"They don't look like us," Drai had murmured softly, the water carrying his words to their ears.
"Outsiders?" Amon asked. "That doesn't happen. And how do they know about the ruins?"
It was a very good question. The people of Lin-Vayel were not insular, but they loved their planet. It was hard for them to leave it and be happy, since most other planets were much drier than theirs. Also, since Lin-Vayel was covered in water for the most part, it was hard for others to come there without ending up soggy and displeased. So there wasn't a lot of mingling.
But here were people that they had never seen before, rummaging through their ruins, their history.
It took Luther by surprise, but it made Jalal furious, if his loud yell and rushing in were anything to go by.
"Wait," Luther called after him, but it was futile. Jalal was already rushing in without a weapon and without good sense, and now the rest of them were obligated to rush in as well.
"He really is an idiot," Drai said, sounding tired.
Amon just nodded. He pulled his twin daggers from the sheathes at his thighs and motioned for the others to follow him.
Luther was also without his weapon. It was hard to carry a trident and be able t
o move underwater, but luckily he didn’t need a weapon to be able to defend himself.
These were outsiders, after all, and they didn’t have the same advantages that he did. Eventually, they would need to breathe, and that would be their downfall.
There were six of them, so the warriors were outnumbered, but they were in the water, their element. It was hard enough to beat them on land, but in the water, they were unstoppable.
One of the outsiders rushed forward, pulling out some kind of blaster from his belt and aiming it at Jalal. Jalal just laughed and made a gesture with his arms that was clearly inviting the outsider to shoot him.
He got his wish, and a weak beam of energy came streaking through the water, nearly sizzling right through him before he moved at the last minute.
“Shell brain!” Amon shouted. “Don’t taunt them!”
Jalal shook it off and rushed in, ready.
Before two of them could take opportunity to engage Jalal, Drai and Luther were on them, hands moving through the water, calling it to their will.
They encased the two in a bubble of swirling water, keeping them from moving.
Drai engaged another who came at him with his own blaster, and Luther spun to take on the one who was after him.
He didn’t want to kill any of them, if possible, but he would if necessary.
It was a short battle, in the end. Two of them ended up drowning, the air supply in their tanks being cut off when jets of water severed the hoses. Their bodies floated lifelessly in the water, and that was enough to make the other four retreat before the same happened to them.
Luther and Amon paused to honor the dead, and then weighed their bodies down to send them to the depths. They wouldn’t receive the same honor that a warrior might, but they had still died fighting.
The real questions were why and how. Luther was still thinking about that as they helped an injured Jalal back to the surface and finished marking their maps with what they had found. They’d need to speak to the queen about what had happened down there, but Luther wanted to understand.
It was clear that those bandits or whatever they were had been looking for something, but it was improbable that they should have been down there at all.
Lin-Vayel was broken up into islands. There were seven of them in all, varying in size and shape, floating among the great sea that covered most of the planet. Each island was ruled by a leader, elected by the people, or continuing a line of leaders, depending on the island.
Luther's island, Asintel was ruled by Queen Varen, a woman as beautiful as she was powerful. She made a point of ruling on her own, letting everyone know that she didn't need anyone to stand beside her in order to rule her kingdom well. And it was true. Some said she was the best queen in the history of their little island, and Luther admired her for her strength and courage and the way she steered them all down the right path.
But she was intimidating, and telling her things hadn't gone according to plan wasn't something he ever really wanted to do. She was a fierce woman who liked things the way she liked them, and when she couldn't have them that way, she always wanted to know why.
At the very least, Luther could remind himself that this wasn't his fault.
Prinna, the queen's second, stood at the gates waiting for him as he made his way to the palace. The whole palace was made from stones and wood and shells that had been found right here on Lin-Vayel, and it gleamed and sparkled in the sunlight.
As he made it to the wrought silver gates, Prinna bowed from the waist. "Her Majesty is expecting you," she said in her soft, musical voice.
"She is?" Luther asked, heart speeding.
"Of course. You have come to tell her of your finds, have you not?"
He'd nearly forgotten the proper protocol for something like this. Of course she was expecting him, he was meant to be coming back with all manner of treasures and artifacts. "Yes," he said. "That is why I am here." It wasn't a lie. The bandits or whoever they were had been found down there, after all.
"Come," Prinna said, bowing again. "She is waiting."
It was never a good idea to keep the queen waiting, so Luther followed Prinna, letting her lead him down the familiar halls to the queen's audience chamber.
How this had ended up being his job, he'd never know. Jalal had needed to go to the medic when they surfaced, and Amon had gone with him, of course, but Drai could have done this. Of course the little eel had been nowhere to be found once it came time to face their queen. It was the last time Luther was ever going to work with him, that was for sure.
Prinna knocked on the great carved door, and from inside a sharp voice said "Enter" in imperious tones.
Prinna swung the door open, and Luther drew in a deep breath, filling his body with air and then letting it out slowly as he stepped through.
He was dreading this, honestly, but he was a warrior, and he would do his duty.
Part One: Lin-Vayel
Chapter One: A Difference in Perspective
“And if you wanna leave, then leave! You know I don’t have the time, and you’re not a friend of mine!” Alanna bobbed her head as she sang, loudly and off key, to the music pumping through the overhead speakers in the studio. It was a struggle not to let her foot tap to the rhythm of the terribly catchy pop song on the radio, but she kept it steady, letting it power the pottery wheel she was currently seated behind.
By now, she could do this in her sleep. Her muscles and hands and feet knew the right speed and placement for making the elaborate vases and bowls she liked to do in her spare time to sell and make a bit of extra money.
That was what Saturdays were for. She came into the studio, earlier than most people liked to be awake, and she turned on some terrible music and got to work.
Already it was warm in the studio, and Alanna had her hair piled up onto the top of her head in a messy bun. A curl had escaped and was dangling in her face, but she wasn’t about to throw off her rhythm to push it away. The few times she had blown at it, hoping to move it, hadn’t gone very well, so for now, it was just there.
She was dressed casually, in clothes that she didn’t mind getting splattered with clay: leggings and an oversized tank top, a sports bra on underneath.
Shannon, her best friend, liked to say that this was Alanna at her most bare. No makeup, no fancy clothes, no pretty hair style. Just her and her clay and the naked pleasure she received from doing the work.
Those were Shannon’s words, not Alanna’s, but she couldn’t deny that her friend had a point. At her happiest, it was just her and her clay, the joy of creation, the pleasure of making something beautiful out of a lump of malleable material.
So she sang terrible pop songs and she worked, and when she had something she was proud of, she set it aside to be decorated and finished, and then went to wash her hands.
Pebbles was the kind of studio you thought about when someone brought up the words ‘artists’ studio’. It was a huge place, with space for everything from painting to sculpture to metal and wood working, and the rooms were rentable by the hour, day, month, or year.
Alanna had what she liked to call a lifetime membership, by virtue of the time she had spent helping to get the place up and running and the painting she had done and the decorations she’d donated. She still kicked in her fair share of cash to help keep things going, but she had a vastly discounted rate.
The space was rented by all sorts from the city, and she could hear the sound of metal being pounded outside, which meant that Alyssa was probably somewhere out there working in the blacksmithing area. She’d have to remember to go say hello.
The door to the pottery room swung open, and Keith came walking in, a large tote bag over his shoulder, headphones in his ears.
He was a bit younger than her, though not by much, tall and lanky, with a little bit of lean muscle. The rumor was that he’d done ballet for a number of years and could dead lift a woman over his head. None of them had tested that, of course, but it was interesting to
talk about all the same.
He was a quiet man with shaggy dark hair, dark eyes, glasses, and a habit of wearing shirts that clung to his frame. He painted in extremes, that is to say he alternated between soft, pastel portraits and floral scenes and dark, vibrant, expressive abstract pieces that never really seemed to tell any kind of story but were visually compelling all the same.
The painting area shared space with pottery, and Keith was a regular for these Saturday mornings, so Alanna leaned against a table and waited.
He was bobbing his head to his own music, but the song playing on the radio in the room had switched from the whiny male singer crooning about how he couldn't sleep without his lover anymore that had been on while she was washing the clay from her hands to a loud and borderline offensive song sung by some screechy teenage girl about grinding in the club.
A smirk tugged at Alanna's mouth as Keith noticed the dissonance between whatever he was listening to and the loud music in the space, and he popped one earbud out and immediately made a face.
His eyes darted around until they found her, and he huffed. "Really, Alanna? Simone Carter?"
She snorted and shrugged. "It came on the radio. But you're the one who knew her name, so. I'm not sure what that says about you."
He made another face, this one more pained than the first. "It means that my older sister has two preteen daughters that I spend a lot of time looking after. They love Simone Carter."
They shared a look at that, both clearly lamenting the fact that younger and younger kids were learning about the pleasures of 'getting low and slow at the club', which honestly didn't even mean anything as far as Alanna knew.
Keith popped his other earbud out and crossed to his space, setting down his bag. He pulled his hoodie off, revealing that yep, he was wearing yet another skin tight shirt that showed off all that lean muscle to delicious effect. Honestly, Alanna liked her men a bit on the beefier side, but there was something about the combination of Keith's quiet nature and his skill at painting that made her overlook her usual preferences when it came to him.
