Xenosaber: Fury of the Stars

by Jedaiah Ramnarine

  “Indeed.” Baldr kept it brief.

  “Lord Baldr,” a messenger acolyte ran to his side. “The Supreme Ruler has summoned you.”

  Magnus smirked. “It’s your time, young prince. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

  “We shall see, Magnus,” Baldr replied. “There is much more work to be done than to settle on simpleton flattery.”

  Magnus nodded and Baldr went on with the messenger alone. The acolyte led the prince past chamber after chamber, where demon and warlock gathered, witch and succubus seduced, and the violet flames of twisted void magic ran free. At last, the prince arrived inside the summoning room – a place in a high part of the fortress where malevolent wizards gathered to perform their spells. Once enough void energy was gathered, they could bring forth The Avatar of Malstrife – The One who was cast into the Void, and the one they called The Supreme Ruler.

  Baldr waited for the sorcerers to complete their ritual while a sense of disquiet crept over him as he wondered – what does The Supreme Rule want? Suddenly, swirls of violet void energy curled into a fixed point at the far end of the room. The summoners halted their chants and looked on in awe. The energies spiraled to form the likeliness of a large, featureless face of an alien humanoid with glowing flame eyes and horns. A tremendous power emanated from the apparition. Its mere presence worked to suck the life-force of those around. Even Baldr grew wary. The Avatar looked at the summoners, then at Baldr, and back to the wizards again.

  “Leave us.” Its chilly voice shook the room.

  The sorcerers turned about and abruptly left, leaving Baldr alone.

  The devout prince stared into the manifestation of his lord and bowed on one knee.

  “You have summoned me, master?” Baldr said with closed eyes as he concentrated on preventing himself from being consumed by the Avatar’s presence. It was excruciating to resist, even to one as powerful as him, Malstrife was leagues above any other force.

  The Avatar looked over Baldr carefully. “Rise, my child.”

  Baldr obeyed.

  “You have done well. That weapon you now carry is but a key alongside its sister,” The Avatar continued, its voice seeping into the depths of Baldr’s mind. “And now, you know what you must do.”

  Baldr hesitated. He wanted to make sure he was about to say the right thing. Finally, he found the courage to speak out. “With all due respect my Lord, I know what I must do but I am not sure if we are prepared to do it. We are in need of your blessings to fulfill it.”

  The Avatar listened to its servant, its silence prompting the prince to continue.

  “The Starlight Blade is in Eira Citadel. Many do not know of this, including most of the royal guard, but I do, because I was once its protector. The might of Eira is nothing to trifle with. Every nation in the world and moon can join forces and they will fall at the feet of Eira. It is the ultimate, dictating superpower.”

  “So it may seem.” The Avatar said unimpressed.

  In truth, it was waiting for Baldr’s to say what he truly desired.

  “We cannot do this as we are; we are simply outmatched. We need more of your blessing,” Baldr paused and looked directly into the eyes of his superior. “I need your blessing.”

  A moment of silence bested all conversation. Baldr was uncertain if he’d overstepped his bounds. He knew well that if Malstrife wanted, he could strike the prince down in the skip of a heartbeat. Nevertheless, there were times to assert one’s self and in that time, Baldr knew he needed to. This made his master very pleased. Malstrife took confidence in Baldr’s opportunistic ways. It made The Dark Lord feel as if Baldr was capable of being his chosen servant – the one who will become his new invoker.

  “Very well, my child. Step forward and unleash The Blade of the Void.” The Avatar said.

  Baldr obeyed. He took two paces forward and unsheathed the star sword, then waited. Swarms of void magic rushed from every corner of the room and surrounded the elven prince, covering his body from head to toe. Baldr squirmed, feeling both pain and empowerment as he was levitated into the air. His eyes became illuminated by void energy and he screamed to the top of his lungs, overcome by the power surging through his veins.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Life in The Phoenix Knight Academy

  JAIVAL HAD GONE INTO A STATE OF NUMBNESS. Nearly two months had passed since the moon elf was recruited into the Knight Academy. The training challenged the young elf both mentally and physically. He was on overdrive day and night – clashing swords, learning new techniques, honing skills and pushing his body to the limits alongside fellow recruits under the tutelage of Mikael and the supervision of Cyrus. Yet that was not his true burden. Jaival operated like a machine because he was still coming to terms with his losses. He didn’t have time to reflect over what happened, and as the days went by, he did everything he could to forget about Julith and his old village.

  Alexa was not allowed to stay with Jaival at the Academy, instead, she was permitted the occasional visit. That too had dampened his morale and at times made him question his purpose for being there. But anytime he saw the princess, as rare as it was since they first met, he felt challenged. Something about Arya soothed him. Part of the moon elf felt a natural inclination to allow it while the other part fought hard against it, wanting to damn her for Baldr’s grave doings.

  ***

  One day, after a grueling session of training, Jaival was on his way back to the Academy’s dormitory for some rest until he caught sight of something that changed his course. On his right, high in the castle walls, outside on one of its many balconies, he saw Arya peering out into the beautiful night’s sky. She was not wearing her crown or royal garments. Her long, long hair was loose and free to be carried by the chilly night wind. She wore a silk robe that hugged her curves suggestively. Jaival sometimes saw her like this on his way back from training. The thing that interested him most whenever he saw her was that she seemed to have this sense of wanderlust.

  Does she feel trapped?

  The princess never paid any attention to the night strollers. Arya, as far as Jaival was concerned, was lost in her own world. And that may have been so. The princess had much to worry about. It was a joint decision by her father, Mikael, and herself to re-initiate the Phoenix Knight trials; something they all thought to be obsolete after the last Great War.

  We were moving toward unification and peace over the lands, Arya debated herself, why has this happened? Why must we suffer yet another setback? And worse, at the hands of my own blood. What a fate.

  Arya’s care for her kingdom and its people were well warranted, but if one was to say she hadn’t the desire to get away from it, even for a day or two – that would be a thought most misplaced. She was perceptive of her father’s deteriorating mental state; another issue that brought her much anguish. King Týr was no longer the powerful and assertive man who once campaigned strongly for peace. He became passive in global matters as time went on; a result stemming from the heartbreak over his son’s exile.

  Arya never cared to inherit the kingdom. It was an expectation everyone had for her brother, and everyone, including the princess herself, was fine with it. She was more attuned to matters of the spirit, nature, and mother earth. Royalty was certainly enjoyable, sure, but it was not what made her who she is – something most commoners found hard to see past their projections. This was what also made Arya strong. She could rise to the task needed, should the matter demand it.

  A small gust of wind diverted her from overthinking as she felt a strong presence looking up at her. She peered over to find the source. It was Jaival. The two locked eyes, Jaival on the bridge and Arya on the balcony, and in that moment, both their hearts skipped a beat or two. Arya had never looked at anyone in the streets, no matter who was peering up at her. After a few seconds, Jaival found the courage to wave at her. Arya waved back with a thin smile, appreciating the gesture but silently telling him that all was not well. Once she saw him, she felt guilt, especially due to th
e apparent sincerity.

  How does he not want my head on a platter? She wondered.

  While Jaival thought – Why can’t I just hate her?

  It was a great paradox. They had a connection that transcended their understanding, something they both knew needed further investigation.

  “Jaival!” Danzul called from behind, interrupting his trance.

  “Oi.” Jaival was quick to greet him. He didn’t want Danzul to know what he was doing.

  Danzul was also on his way back from training when he saw Jaival staring out over the bridge. The two had grown fond of each other overtime. They were in the same classes and became sparring mates. They often shared techniques and had similar philosophical and political interests. It was the start of a good friendship.

  “Have you gone mad, lad? Or perhaps you are thinking of living in the Citadel?” Danzul teased.

  Jaival chuckled. “Perhaps I one day will. It is the fate of us, the mad ones, to do the impossible, is it not?”

  Danzul patted his shoulder with laughter.

  “Today was an excellent day brother. We made much progress. I’m sure Lord Mikael will be proud.”

  “Indeed,” Jaival nodded. “I must say I enjoy the Seven-Arm Slash. It’s a clever way to outsmart your opponent.”

  “That it certainly is,” Danzul unsheathed his training sword and imitated the overhead attack. “Not to mention – very efficient.”

  “Aye, it’ll do you well in our next spar. 4-2, if I recall?” Jaival smirked.

  “3-2, and that last win didn’t count. You cheated!”

  Jaival shrugged. “In a real fight, there won’t be anything like rules. ‘Cheating’ may be your ticket between life and death.”

  “Fair enough.” Danzul moved to his side and looked at the castle in front of them. Jaival hesitated for a second. He didn’t want his friend to see the princess, but when he spun around to face the castle with Danzul, she was gone.

  “Next time I’ll have a few tricks up my sleeve for you.” Danzul grinned.

  “Looking forward to it.” Jaival smiled and looked on with him.

  A moment of silence past as the two breathed in the night’s air and looked at the full moon overhead.

  “Do you think we’ve all been fated, Jaival?” Danzul became serious.

  “What do you mean?” Jaival quizzed.

  “You, Me, Mikael, the Princess, Cyrus. and even Baldr. Do you think what has been happening was always meant to happen? All of us were meant to do something for our worlds?”

  “I don’t know,” Jaival thought over his meaning. “I don’t believe in chosen ones but I do know of cause and effect. Our worlds were always meant to reach this point. Sooner or later, there would’ve been people to rise to do what is right. It seems that happens to be us. So maybe, in that light, we were meant to do this.”

  Danzul shook his head with a small chuckle. “You always make me think. Perhaps one day you should write a book.”

  “Perhaps one day, I will.”

  Danzul gazed at his friend and smiled. There was something magnetic about Jaival, something that called people to be around him – no matter how blunt or cold he seemed.

  “Well I’m off to bed. See you tomorrow.” Danzul walked away.

  “Rest well.” Jaival replied.

  After Danzul departed, Jaival took one last glance at the balcony where he had seen Arya, only to find she had retreated back into her chambers in the meantime.

  Goodnight.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  An Overdue Second Meeting

  THE NEXT MORNING, Jaival, and his dormmates were awakened by the drill instructor to get ready for training. The moon elf and his dormmates suited up in apprentice armors with trainee swords and shields, then moved out in column formation en route to the academy training grounds. Jaival felt a presence following him. It made him lag behind the others, curious to investigate. He walked past one of the corners alone, stopped, drew his sword, and turned about.

  “I see you don’t like being followed.” a female voice called from the shadows.

  Jaival pointed his sword. “Show yourself.”

  “As you wish.” a robed, hooded young woman dressed in white, stepped into the light and removed her hood. Jaival’s eyes widened and his jaw hanged. He instantly dropped to a knee out of respect.

  “Ugh, my apologies Your Highness. I had no idea it was you.” he pleaded.

  “Rise.” Arya showed him a coy smile.

  Jaival followed the command.

  “You have been looking at me for some time, Jaival of the Moon.” Arya’s gaze was petrifying and she knew it. When she looked at you, you had no choice but to look back. “…I must ask – what is it you are trying to see?”

  Jaival froze. He wondered if she was testing him. He was not the kind to lie, even in nervousness. A reminder of everything he had lost came back to him in that moment, edging him to go on, take the chance and gamble by speaking his mind.

  “You.” he stated.

  The bluntness caught Arya off guard. She knew deep down that his answer was true but she didn’t expect him, or anyone else for that matter, to be so upfront. It was different from what she was accustomed to since most people were intimidated by her.

  “Me?” she quizzed.

  Jaival nodded.

  “Why?”

  “Because,” Jaival stalled and debated to himself, whether he was about to get completely out of line. All the losses came to him again, pushing him to take the chance. What more could he lose anyway?

  “…you are absolutely beautiful,” his heart raced. “It’d be a crime not to at least look at you.”

  “Oh,” Arya’s cheeks turned red. “You flatter me.”

  “I only speak the truth.” Jaival was still unsure if she was ready to issue command to a guard to come cut his head off for being so bold.

  “And the truth will set you free,” Arya smirked. “Will you come with me? I have something to show you.”

  ***

  The Princess led Jaival into a series of narrow passageways that only the Citadel’s architect or those with knowledge of its design would know. As they moved through the narrow, darkened passageways, it became obvious that the princess was evading contact with her guards.

  What’s this about? The moon elf wondered.

  They exited the passageways into a hallway full of patrolling guards and nobles. Arya wrapped the hood around her head to pose as a holy woman. Jaival had no idea if it was wrong of him to be there or if he were to suffer an arrest, should they see him. Arya thought it was cute. He seemed so lost. Not wanting to take chances by having Jaival lag due to his ignorance of their destination, Arya reached for his hand, and pulled him further down the hallway. Their fingers interlocked and for a second, Jaival became even more curious. They managed to evade guard after guard until they were outside the rear entrance to the castle, on the cobbled passageway which led to the Temple of Light, when suddenly. “Halt!” a loud voice rang from behind.

  Oh great, Arya sighed and turned around.

  They were caught by a guard who’d been trailing them for some time.

  “What is your business with this Phoenix Knight Trainee, priestess?” The guard came closer, his spear and shield a reminder of the kingdom’s finest. “Shouldn’t he be in training?”

  “Your observations are well placed, protector. However, he is sick. I must take him to the Temple of Light for healing.” Arya replied.

  The guard paid close attention to Arya’s face. Despite being hooded, he found her beauty to be unbelievable for a common priestess. Arya noticed him scoping her out. She immediately turned to Jaival and nudged his arm so he’d play along. Jaival was quick to get the message.

  “Ahem!” The moon elf cleared his throat, coughed, and started acting ill. “I’m in need of aid, please, help me!”

  “Yuck!” The guard cringed. “Very well. Carry on. Get the boy fixed and return him to his camp.”

  “Will do, prot
ector.” Arya spun around and yanked Jaival to quickly follow her.

  “Halt!” The guard shouted again.

  Arya sighed and rolled her eyes.

  “Yes, protector?” she turned around again, keeping her face in a profile angle.

  The guard moved forward a few paces. He seemed anxious.

  “You know, I have been feeling under the weather myself,” he said, slick. “Perhaps when you are finished with him, you can assist me in a holy cleansing.”

  All three of them froze, dumbfounded by what had just happened. Arya’s face twisted with both judgment and confusion while Jaival grew defensive, and the poor guard’s slick smile abruptly turned into a timid frown.

  Is he seriously flirting with me right now? Arya wondered.

  Is he seriously flirting with her right now? Jaival also wondered.

  Am I seriously flirting with her right now? The guard succumbed.

  Arya really wasn’t sure what to be more shocked by. His attempt, or how pathetic it was.

  If he only knew who she really was he’d soil his pants and beg for mercy.

  “Goodbye protector.” Arya spun around fierce and marched away, yanking Jaival with her.

  The guard remained motionless.

  “Shoot!” he stomped his foot. “Holy women and their blasted vows.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Temple of Light

  ARYA AND JAIVAL ENTERED THE Temple of Light a few minutes after their whimsical meeting with the odd guard. The moon elf dropped his head back to peer at the great height of the cathedral.

  “Wow.” The word quietly left his mouth.