by Marc Mulero
Eres was speechless. She still cared for him, after all this time. Windel knew it was his first period, day four class. That’s where she went in crisis, to find him.
He scrambled back from the cellar and into the light again. Without even thinking, he laid on his back and tensed in anticipation, for he was about to break one of his father’s absolute rules – never point the impeller straight up. That was before he was a master, though, surely a rule to shield him from splattering after an impossible fall. Then disregarding the next caution, his finger pushed the dial way past the limits of any previous settings. He had to fly seven stories straight up if this was going to work, and he had to do it fast.
He clicked it. A visible burst of wind drew attention, but he was already in flight like a mini rocket reaching for the stars. The g-force made his eyes dry and squinted. His hair was pulled straight back like he was in a wind tunnel, and the struggle to desperately keep his Crule blade in hand intensified. Soldiers adjusted their aim but it didn’t matter, he was already beyond them, counting two floors at a time in an instant, and then he flew past section seven before reaching maximum height. The turning point made his stomach lurch into his chest. A feeling of falling took over. One free hand flailed to find nothing but air. Panic for an eternal second. His eyes re-adjusted and he used the second of three impeller uses to angle him down onto the seventh floor. The burst was desperate, ending with him tossing his sword on the floor and rolling wildly to a stop.
His eyes were wide as he pushed himself up and recounted his crazy trip. It worked. Windel was right ahead of him, likely hiding somewhere in Ren’s torium. Everything would be fine once he found her. He grunted as he reclaimed his blade, then sprinted into the room where it all began for him. His first class, now as empty as his childhood. This wasn’t at all how he remembered it. Grimness took hold of him when seeing all of the desks overturned, specks of blood staining the fine floor, and the bleakness of it all to welcome him. He assumed the worst once more, but a glance at his oobs reassured him that the message was, in fact, from her.
“Windel!” Eres shouted. “It’s me! I’m here!” His arms were spread wide, caution abandoned. He knew that he would soon be overwhelmed, but he yearned for Mustae to grant him this last grace… to be the Skrol hero that he always wanted to be. Even if it was for pretend. Even if it wasn’t true.
In the back, behind a cluster of thrown desks, there was a movement. Subtle at first, then Windel rose. One arm wilted, an eye closed from obvious pain, but ready nonetheless for whatever came next. Her blunt sparring weapon was in hand, useless as it was.
Eres saw none of it – only life. Beauty. He was overwhelmed with regret for time lost and embarrassment for faulty actions. All of this carried him into the most heartfelt hug he’d ever given. It sucked the remaining strength out of her, as she too felt she could finally rest in his arms.
“I thought you were dead. And I would never know why…” She looked up at him, face scratched and dirtied, but never brighter in his eyes. “Why did we have to part?”
A mix of anger and remorse overtook him, forming as a single tear that ran fast down his cheek. “I was set up – Crow. That bastard. He ruined everything! Spied on us, told PAs about my impeller, making me think that it was you who spilled my secrets. It was all my fault for not trusting you.” Eres dropped his head in shame. “I guess all he did was test my ability to have faith. And I failed terribly. I’m sorry, Windel. I hope you can forgive me.”
She sighed into his lightly armored chest. “I was devastated at first, confused, then eventually mad. But I can say, Eres, that after all of these months, I’ve never been indifferent. I always cared… knowing that one day we would be friends again. Up until today that is, when I thought you died. Proctor Ren’s entire class was nowhere to be found. I thought the worst. So yes, I can forgive you, Eres, and I do.”
He hugged her tight, wanting nothing but to kiss her in this instant, but she suddenly winced from shooting pain, and then the moment fleeted. “I’ll kill Crow for causing this. I’ll find Seren Night and break his bones for causing harm to you, Windel, even if I have to crawl to the ends of these spheres.”
She broke out of his embrace to lock eyes again. “Eres… Crow didn’t cause this. He saved me.”
His brow furrowed. “Wha-” he opened and closed his mouth, so sure a moment ago that he had it all figured out, that there was obviously only one to blame for everything. “But he brought them to us,” he protested.
Windel just shook her head. “You have it wrong.”
“Then who?”
Windel squeezed Eres’ arms tightly, breaking eye contact to follow the large figures entering the room behind him.
Intruders – three of them, decked in greyed out Glite armor from head to toe. Their rifles were relaxed over their shoulders, strut unhurried. They must’ve herded everyone they meant to at this point. Everything was falling apart, and no one knew for sure why.
Eres turned protectively, ensuring that Windel’s entire body was covered by his armor.
“What do you want?!” he shouted defiantly, holding up the runic blade that could’ve ruined them.
The centermost Eplon spoke up in a voice altered by his Glite mask. “You will find out soon enough, Eres.”
He blinked hard at the mention of his name. “How… who are you?”
Then the speaker’s mask deactivated back into the spine of his Glite armor to reveal a familiar face.
Eres’ heart sank. His blade hand fell to its side. All of the fight scurried out of him, leaving him defeated. “Joo... no.”
A flash of the two of them in Roots class blinked to the front of his mind. The moment where Proctor Wudon’s esper fell out of his tunic, held by that black chain. He remembered the strange reaction from Joo, but let it go. Now things were starting to click.
“It wasn’t Crow,” Eres said loud enough for Windel to hear, “but it definitely is the Silent War. This is about Skrols.”
Joodah stepped forward to interrupt the epiphany. “I really should thank you, Eres. I would never have been able to get into Wudon’s class without you. Everyone else was reluctant to share the knowledge that came so naturally to Umboro natives. Of course, I didn’t know for sure that Wudon was one of them, but you were so quick to trust me, because of one act of kindness.”
Eres was dumbfounded, backing up slowly as the Eplon approached.
“Do you know why I targeted you, of all people?”
His blank stare implored Joodah to continue.
“The wind marks on your back. Where I come from, we practice with all sorts of War Tech – Crule, ancient guns, impellers. I knew right away that something was different about you… that you could have been an agent of the Silent War, like me. But now, I’m not so sure.” He smiled as if he was sharing knowledge with an ignorant child. “Even now, as we invade your home, I don’t think you know who we are.”
Eres’ mind had been racing the second that Joodah retracted his mask – back to the conversations that he shared with Proctor Ren in this very room. A group of Eplon terrorists, stealing data as they saw fit, because they believed the events of Faction history weren’t truthful. That the tale of Ovar Octanious and Kovella Bernise Powl was never a love story based on true events, but rather a perversion of the ugly reality that she was a permanent Swul captive, brainwashed to exist as Ovar’s pet, so that the Swul’s could topple the Eplon’s and reign once more.
“Kovella’s Quittance.” Joodah confirmed his thoughts. “We are here to release her from the Faction’s lies, clear her good name, and take back what rightfully belongs to the Eplons. Join us, Eres. You can bring Windel, too.” He clenched his fist, awaiting their response.
Eres turned his head so only Windel could hear his whisper. “I never got to tell you – Wudon is the Skrol ‘eye’ that my fata planted to keep watch over me. Joodah found out when I did. Now we know, Windel. These Eplons are with Seren Night, and they mean to end the Skrols.”
<
br /> Joodah cleared his throat. “Don’t conspire, my little friend. You cannot begin to know what we’re after. The Silent War has many facets.”
“Plesus, you want to compile the ancient secret for yourself! Of course, I know. Why else would you launch a war to gain one esper?” Eres raised his blade. “Well… I’ve just chosen my side, Joodah Roe. I will protect the Skrols and this Kor with my life. You, Kovella’s Quittance and Seren Night can all rot.”
While declaring his allegiance, Eres was distracting the invaders as he watched in his peripheral Proctor Ren sneak inside the torium. As soon as he finished speaking, a pulse flowed through all of them, alerting the three Eplon’s to turn with their rifles in place to fire, though their sight was swiftly ripped from them. The room went dark, a cool mist culminating at their feet.
Eres squeezed Windel’s hand to keep her still and then reached slowly for his impeller.
“What’s happening?! Eres, stop this or I’ll fry you both!” Joo looked around frantically as buzzsaws began to sound all around them.
A dim red light flickered on, accompanied by indecipherable screams sounding in the distance. Ren’s octor proved to be weird on all different points of the spectrum, but at this moment Eres was thankful for it. One of the intruder’s ducked as a thirty-foot scythe swung down, straight out of a horror movie. It was all illusion, Eres knew, and the opportunity that his proctor had granted him may have saved their lives.
Eres shifted his impeller to point forward, keeping the same settings he’d used to get to the torium. The second that Joodah broke free from the distraction, the moment he knew that the scene was fake, it was too late. Eres had already clicked his impeller, and a burst of wind erupted like a horizontal tornado, driving the three intruders to slam their backs on a faraway wall.
Alfonze Ren snatched his octor from the projector, causing the scene to immediately rewind into the sphere like light being sucked into a black hole, returning the torium to normal lighting. He then jumped over the three downed Eplons and ran for the door.
Eres made way for the same exit as Joodah shook free from his daze.
“Get them!” the Eplon shouted.
Eres looked back, vision shaking, remembering that he was hand-in-hand with Windel. His whole body was tingling because of it. Not now. He looked past her, to his old friend lifting his rifle to blast them right off the high ledge, to kill them.
No.
He swung his gaze forward, ready to push Windel from harm’s way, but that’s when he saw him and nearly froze in his tracks. Crow. Eres had a mind to draw his blade and cut him where he stood, but then thought better of it. Why was he running straight at them from outside of the torium? And why did he look more disturbed than he’d ever seen him?
Eres was compelled to turn upon seeing his rival’s face.
Joodah was adjusting the gigantic barrel of his plasma rifle, which was heating up with a violet hue. There was no escape. The radius of the blast would launch them no matter where they dove. They’d be hurled into open air and into a fatal fall. It was inevitable.
But then, against everything Eres wanted to believe, Crow’s thin yet muscular arms flexed. Vines rushed around the open entranceway in rapid succession, blocking their enemies within an instant, just as the explosive was loosed.
Wham.
Tree bark, wood, and fire burst in every direction, knocking all parties off their feet once more. Whereas a direct hit would’ve ended all four of them, Crow’s last-ditch effort minimized the damage and shot some of the explosion back in their attackers’ faces.
Eres had used his Glite-covered body as a shield for Windel. Some of his hair became ashy as the residue of purple flames died out, and the blast melted part of the Dagos mask his ooma kept reapplying, leaving one of his dull green “T” marks out in the open for all to see.
Windel reached a hand up to Eres’ face to wipe off the peeling dagos mask, to inspect his mark with intrigue. She knew what it was, of course. Every student would. But that didn’t make it any less shocking.
“Eres,” she said softly before he realized what had happened.
Hesitantly, he reached up to feel the liquified remnants that had allowed him to blend in at Kor for so long. He got up quickly in shame, watching Crow as he resealed his Reach barrier to buy them all time.
When the orphan finished, he turned to see an unnerving sight. He locked eyes with Eres, jaw clenched for more reason than one, before finally looking away.
“Come students, we have to stay out of KQ’s sights. I know of a corridor where we can hide out and devise a plan,” Proctor Ren beckoned.
“Haven’t they already succeeded? They have us. They overtook Kor Vinsánce.” Eres felt defeated.
“Not while we still breathe,” Ren assured. “This way.”
The unlikely crew followed their proctor to an untouched corridor, the view over its ledge indeed looking grim as they passed. Eplon guns were stationed at each crowds’ back, poking them to stay in orderly lines, as a few dead bodies were being used as examples - mostly PAs and students, a proctor here and there. The glory that was once emitted from the most mystical place Eres had ever known was reduced to desperate, enclosed, Reach-filled walls. A last-ditch effort to use the few capable proctors to defy Kovella’s mighty insurgence.
Ren quietly guided them into a tight room with intricate ramps that led all the way down to the main floor.
“Eres, if we get out of this… we need to find Mun right away. Maybe he can reapply that mask.” Windel kept a hand on his shoulder while they snuck down each floor.
“Are you that ashamed to be beside a Dawn?”
She hugged him from behind and buried her face in his neck. “Don’t be an idiot… I want you to stay. Suwa isht.”
Eres narrowed his eyes while bending back to watch her cuddle him. “Head… full of air? Air head? Really?”
Her whole body shook in silent laughter, as did his.
If looks could kill, Crow’s would have murdered them both. “I always knew there was something off about you.”
Eres turned to Crow as Windel loosened her embrace, his demeanor hardening. “Trying to rationalize all that you’ve done to me in the past year? Bullying, stalking, ratting.”
Crow stepped up to him, resuming a countenance of arrogance with his chin raised. “No one just drops into Kor Vinsánce. You’ve got to earn your place.”
“Haven’t I?” Eres stepped right back up to meet him.
“Now, now students.” Proctor Ren’s hands came in between them and pushed. “Surely a time like this calls for us to put aside our differences for a common enemy, eh?”
Crow scoffed and folded his arms, reluctantly agreeing with Ren’s logic.
“Good,” Ren said. “If we somehow make it out of this, Eres, you must stay away from the Generations proctors. They will deport you the first chance they get. You keep your head low – those marks are undeniable. Okay?”
“Sie,” Eres agreed.
Ren then spun on Crow. “And you. This Dawn knows as much about not belonging as you do. He had to be smuggled in here for Mustae’s sake. He’s your brother whether you like it or not.”
Crow crinkled his nose haughtily. “‘He’ is not even a he.”
“Irrelevant!” Ren whispered loudly. “Hear me, boy. Eres Dawn has earned his keep.”
Three sets of concerned eyes stared upon the orphan before he eventually turned away – again his silence conveying some kind of begrudging acceptance. Then, suddenly, the walls started to rumble.
“More intruders trying to get in?” Windel questioned.
Ren looked around inquisitively. “No, that didn’t feel like gunfire. The entire Kor shook. Move!”
The four of them rushed down four floors to try and understand what was happening. Strangely, once they carefully trekked into the open halls of the Academic Wing, a voice vibrated out of the Reach-covered windows – Keeper Decalus’ voice.
“There must be some grand purpose
for bringing harm to innocents. Speak it! We can bear no more.” Decalus’ voice sounded godly, omnipotent, echoing.
“He’s using Reach to project his voice through the vines… so similar to the underground pipes. Fascinating,” Windel explained.
Ren held up a finger to ask for silence.
An amplified voice shouted back, “You harbor a Skrol in your walls. Wukaldred Donn, or Proctor Wudon as you have cleverly concealed him. Release him into our custody, and no one else has to die.”
The four of them inched closer to the third-floor ledge to see an Eplon woman in the center of the main floor twisting and turning with a megaphone-like device to ensure that the walls could hear.
The tall woman spoke, “We know Faction forces are on their way, and we have been unable to locate our target. Desperate measures are about to be taken. Your voice may be the one that prevents a massacre, Vindom Decalus. Do your Kor proud and sacrifice the one to save the many.”
Eres became increasingly frantic. “No, no! This is all wrong. Wudon has the Dark esper. It takes his complete devotion to play his part in protecting the Skrol secret. I know it… his role is critical. We can’t let him go!”
Crow sneered. “Then let’s cut off the head of this Eplon snake. I can root her legs if you cut her down.”
Eres glanced at his device, noting that the gauge was refilling awfully slowly. “My impeller is empty.”
Ren surveyed the surrounding soldiers blocking the torium’s exits, recognizing that they were, in fact, overtaken. “No one is going on a suicide mission on my watch.”
A cracking sound beckoned closer above them, like someone was breaking twigs under their feet. Then a strange ramp of bark and vine formed over the section five ledge and headed straight for the Eplon.
“Against my will, Wudon surrenders in exchange for your departure. Kovella’s spirit frowns upon your twisted souls,” Decalus scolded.
“No!” Eres yelled again as he broke away from the group, leaving a trail of loud protesting whispers at his back.
“You may lift the barricades. Once he is in our custody, we will leave,” the Eplon woman promised. “Stall for even a moment, though, and we open fire.”
