Amorlia: Age of Wonder

by Chris Wichtendahl

  ***

  Mandhe sat in the "Y" of two branches, her back against the wide trunk of the tree. She pulled her long coat tighter around herself and, not for the first time, wished she'd brought a blanket. She was watching Jer Fellen's property, for it was on his land the latest attacks occurred. Her mind drifted back to earlier that day and her meeting with the mayor. "Well," he said, leaning back in the battered chair behind his desk, "I can't tell you how delighted and fortunate we all are to have a true Gunfighter come to our aid." His smile was warm, but his eyes were laughing at her. "Thing is," he drawled, "I seem to recall the Gunfighters all being massacred, some years back." "I hear that a lot," she said. She hooked an arm over the back of her chair, tipping her hat back to look him in the eye across his cluttered desk. "What I haven't heard is a lot of detail about the job. In particular, my fee." "I thought a hero's job was its own reward," he said with a small laugh. He didn't like her eyes. Someone so young should not have eyes that knowing. "Yes," she agreed, "it is indeed. Fortunately, I am not burdened with an overabundance of heroism." Her stare hardened. "So I think now would be an excellent time to discuss my fee." In her tree, Mandhe grinned. The rest of the meeting had gone as she'd assumed. He offered a rather insulting figure, she countered with one more reasonable and finally settled for something much higher than he'd intended to pay. Of course, once he told her what she'd be hunting, she wished she'd charged double. "A terror beast?" she remembered asking, incredulous. Such creatures were of the Wild Lands, never venturing south of their wooded habitat. "Aye," the mayor nodded, "and a more vicious creature the people of this fair town have not often seen." Upon further discussion, it was revealed that the old spells of protection on the border of the Wild Lands were weakening. None remained of the legendary clan of warriors that had long maintained the spells, save for a few distant cousins who'd traveled far from their traditional homeland. With no one to maintain it, the protection was failing. As the town was to the north of Drego City, near the borders of Greatwood Park, it was assumed they were catching the leading edge of a potential invasion of monsters from the Wild Lands. Representatives from the University had come to study the remaining wards. One of the University's founders, after all, had been among the last to strengthen them, six decades earlier. Unfortunately, while they were able to analyze the wards quite successfully, none lived who could work the spells of the Wild Clan. They estimated ten years before the wards collapsed entirely. Not that any of that was Mandhe's problem. She'd been hired to kill a monster, regardless of how many might come after. A rustle in the trees near Greatwood Park pulled Mandhe out of memory and back to the now. She peered intently across the few feet of farmland to the relatively young forest at its edge. The trees shook again. Mandhe's hand twitched toward her gun, but she clenched her fist and shook her head. "No no," she said. "I've other tools for killing our terror beast. I'll have no need for you tonight." At least, she fervently hoped so. Prior to taking her perch in the tree, she arranged a number of traps, all primed to activate via the small device in her hand. One press of the button, and her array of hidden weapons would prove more than a match for one lone terror beast. She'd baited her trap with cattle from Jer Fellen's herd. He'd balked at the idea until she suggested him as a replacement, then he quietly offered up a couple of older cows. The beasts had been content enough to stand and graze for a while, but now whatever was rustling the trees made their heads turn and caused them to low in fright. They would have run, had Mandhe not chained them to stakes in the ground. Finally, a massive winged creature crashed through the trees, snatching up a cow in one of its four arms, crushing the poor animal in its beak. Mandhe pressed a button on the device in her hand and a round of explosives detonated at the monster's feet. It staggered back, its torn and broken legs no longer able to support it. Mandhe pressed another button and unleashed a barrage of large spears which became embedded in its chest. Mandhe jumped from the tree and rushed toward the flailing roaring beast. It had flipped over onto its stomach and was pushing itself up on two hands. The other two grasped at her, but she leaped away. She drew a long knife from her belt and slashed at them whenever they came near. She ran around the creature's side, toward the twisted remnants of its legs. She jumped up onto its back and lunged for its head, clinging desperately as it tried to shake her loose. Her legs around its neck, she drove the long knife deep into its eye, leaping free as it howled one last time before tumbling lifeless to the ground. Mandhe sat up, panting, and looked over her handiwork. "Not bad," she complimented herself, "and you didn't even need to use the-" Several loud roars and more crashing drowned out her voice as five more terror beasts erupted from the clearing. At the sight of their dead companion, they turned toward Mandhe, eyes blazing with rage. The lead beast let out a howl that was echoed by its followers. Snarling, the beasts charged at the young Gunfighter, some taking to the air to swoop down on her from above. "Oh," Mandhe looked up, all color draining from her face, "bloody Hells."

  The Curse of the Black Revolver

  Mandhe leaned back against the small window of the airship's passenger compartment. She was alone in her aisle, so she sat along the padded bench, knees drawn up to her chest. She closed her eyes, wishing the trip to Qi Messa over. She opened them again when she heard a man sit down across from her and glanced out the corner of her eye at him. He was a few decades her senior, his thick black hair greying at the temples. He dressed in the fashions of southern Drego, though his clothes were somewhat worn with travel. "Name's Anders," he said amiably. "Anders Pacha." Mandhe grinned as she turned to him. She'd found another descendant of the old Land Pacha survivors. It was possible they were related. "The name's Mandhe," she said, "Well met, cousin." "Well met at last," Anders replied, as per the traditional greeting. "By the grace of the Messa," they intoned together. Mandhe shook her head, smiling ruefully. "What?" Anders smiled back, though his was more bemused. "The Greeting," Mandhe said. "It's been years since I've done it." "Been away from the old homelands awhile?" Anders asked. "Was raised around the old capitol until I was six or so, then went to live with my uncle in Vega City." Mandhe explained. "My parents died of the Fever. We all got it," she said, her voice low, "but I..." Anders' smile turned very kind, as he lay a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Aye," he said. "I know. It was my wife and son who died of it. We'd all gathered in the one bed by the end, to better care for each other as well as we were able. Though, you know, by the end..." "You could all barely breathe, let alone care for one another," Mandhe finished, nodding. The Fever struck all the Pacha descendants about a decade earlier, decimating entire families, ravaging towns and villages. The healers could do nothing, their considerable abilities useless against the mysterious ailment. Nor did the physicians of the University and their medicines and surgeries do much better. The best any of them did was discover its cause: a long-term side-effect of the curse that had turned the Pachas' ancestors into blood-drinking Nightwalkers. It was uncertain whether it would strike again, but all Pachas remembered it, and feared its return. "Woke up surrounded by the rotting corpses of my nearest and dearest," Anders continued. "My youngest boy, he also survived, he'd been in his mother's arms at the end. When he woke up..." He shook his head. "Boy wasn't right at all after that. Left home soon as he was able, and I didn't see aught of him." The older man sighed. "Heard he was killed, a couple years back. Bar fight. Something about money and women." He shook his head again, fixing his smile back in place. "But you don't want to hear all that," he said. "Fever was a long time ago. What's your business in Qi Messa, if you don't mind my asking?" Mandhe grinned at his deft change of subject. "A pilgrimage, of sorts," she said. "Seeking enlightenment at the feet of Qi Drego, eh?" the older man teased. Such journeys were not uncommon among young people. "Absolution," Mandhe whispered, suddenly sad. Her hand brushed lightly against the handle of her gun and she grit her teeth. "What?" Anders leaned closer, unable to hear. "Never mind," Mandhe said, forcing a polite smile. Anders nodded. The two sat in uncomfortable sil
ence a while, then Anders said, "Well, there's still several hours yet to go on our trip. I, for one, am in need of some sleep. If you'll excuse me?" He pulled a blanket down from the overhead compartment. "Of course," Mandhe said. "I should be getting some too. Oh, thank you," she added when Anders offered her a blanket. She covered her legs with it, then leaned back again and closed her eyes, returning to that horrible night near Greatwood Park. She'd just dispatched a terror beast from the Wild Lands, only to have five more leap out at her. She barely avoided the swinging claws of the leader's four massive arms. She jumped far back and kept moving. There was little choice left to her, she would have to use the Gun. She drew it swiftly, shooting one beast through the eye and another in the stomach. Her first target fell down dead. She shuddered as its Spark was given to her. The second beast was simply enraged by the wound in its belly and redoubled its attack. She couldn't get an eye shot, and each bullet she put in its head and body only seemed to slow it, while making it angrier. She filled all four remaining terror beasts with enough shining projectiles to slaughter an entire army, but they kept coming. They'd chased her back and forth along the edge of farmer Jer Fellen's property, tearing up the ground and uprooting trees. Though the loss of blood was slowing them, they were still quite formidable. She took a glancing blow from one of their claws which sent her sprawling across the churned-up earth. She lay there, dazed, as the creatures came closer. The loud bang of a rifle woke her up and she leaped from where she'd fallen just as a beast slashed at her. She spun in mid-air, finally putting a bullet through its eye. She pumped an uncountable number into the chest of the next, finally dropping it to the ground, where it moaned and thrashed weakly. She shot a third through the neck five times, jumping out of the way as it fell, clutching its hemorrhaging throat. She hit the ground in a crouch, aiming up at the last one, but another rifle blast sounded from behind her and the creature fell, a bloody hole where its eye had been. She turned and saw Jer Fellen still aiming his gun, smoke drifting out of the barrel. He lowered the gun and smiled at her. "I hope you don't mind," he said, "but I heard all the commotion and thought you could use a-" The blast of Mandhe's gun cut his words short as it blew a hole through his chest. Mandhe screamed, hurling the Gun at the ground. She felt Jer Fellen die, his final agonies coursing through her body, the touch of his living Spark a thousand sharp needles in her soul. "An innocent!" she shouted at the Gun. "You made me take an innocent! You made me... made..." A wave of nausea ran through her, then another. She vomited into the grass, falling over and beginning to shake. Desperately, reluctantly, she reached out for the Gun. Once it was in her hand, the shaking subsided, her nausea passed, and she could stand again. With a bitter grimace and tears streaming down her cheeks, she slid the Gun into its holster. It was getting worse. It was going to keep getting worse until the curse of the Gun overwhelmed her, leading her inexorably on a course worse than the one she'd faced when bonded with Emfex. She would never be free of it. Never. In the end, Fellen's death was ruled an accident and Mandhe collected her fee. She decided to press on toward the city of Qi Messa, named for the legendary savior of the Pacha survivors. Since this Gun had once belonged to the mythic Gunfighter, Mandhe hoped she could find release from its curse in the opulent memorial to the long-dead hero. The route overland was long and treacherous, so she opted to travel by air. She was still many miles from the temple city, and as her memories faded to dreams, she hoped fervently no one else would suffer what she bore before she arrived.

  Flight

  Darine Kanto rummaged through a pile of rubble near the end of her street. It had been months since Jat Loren's Spark cult had run roughshod over the town of Baern and, while their new mayor had most basic services up and running and life was getting back to normal, there were still huge sections of the town that had not yet been rebuilt. Darine's neighborhood was one of them. She was looking through the pile for two things. One, she wanted to see if there were any items of value left unsalvaged. The food crews would be coming through later to deliver basic necessities and it was common knowledge that they would trade extra rations for any valuables pulled from the rubble. As a result, most of the good stuff was long since picked over, but one could still find something worthwhile if they were willing to put a little work into it. Darine was also looking for shoes. She'd been asleep when the riot tore through her neighborhood and had been barefoot ever since. She'd had just enough time to grab a handful of clothes as she evacuated her home, but not enough to also grab her shoes. Finding new ones that fit had been difficult. Her feet were each a different size and somewhat oddly shaped. She had to order custom shoes to fit her. Unfortunately, all her money was also lost in the riot, as was her place of employment, so she'd no funds to pay for her custom shoes. She saw what seemed to be a boot sticking out of the rubble near the top of the pile. She could see it was too precarious to climb. She'd lost more than one friend to collapsing rubble after they tried to climb to some shiny bauble or other. Plus, it was unlikely the boots, if they were even a pair, would fit her well enough to be worth the time. Still, she'd been a while without shoes and the weather would be changing soon. She only had to get to them to check. Darine looked around, made sure no one was watching, then, with great concentration, slowly lifted herself off the ground. She floated up to the top of the pile and gingerly reached out to take the boot. She was a floater. Her power wasn't strong enough for actual flight, but she could make herself hover several feet off the ground if she put her mind to it. She grabbed the boot and pulled. It was stuck, so she pulled harder. The boot came free all of a sudden, which broke her concentration and sent her tumbling to the ground. She sat up, rubbing her head and lower back. Then she caught sight of the pair of boots on the ground in front of her. They had thick treads on the bottom and looked very comfortable. She tried one on. It fit perfectly. Not hoping for much with the second boot, she pulled that one on and was amazed to discover that it fit perfectly as well. She could almost feel the boots conforming to her feet. It was as though they were made for her. She looked down and admired them for a while, then felt a little dizzy. Then she felt a lot dizzy. The world spun around her and she couldn't tell up from down. She felt everything lurch once, then blacked out. While she was out, she dreamed she was visited by none other than the legendary speedster Pym Kenar. He told her that she wore his boots and that they would greatly enhance her natural powers of flight. By finding the boots and putting them on, she had accepted the title of Wind Adept and all the responsibility that went with it. "What responsibility?" she asked. Her spectral visitor smiled. "Oh, you'll find out," he said. "But why don't you wake up for now and have a look around? I think you'll be pleasantly surprised." With a final crooked smile, he disappeared. Darine opened her eyes slowly. Everything seemed blurry and distant at first, as though seen through clouds. When she woke fully, she realized why. She was seeing things through clouds. She was so high up in the air, she was actually looking down at Baern. The town was a mere smudge on the landscape. From her vantage point, she could see all of Amorlia, including the sea that surrounded it. Looking toward the horizon, she saw the curve of the planet itself. She was frightened, but also excited. She wanted to learn more about her new powers and these responsibilities Pym had mentioned. A thought entered her mind then. Something about the Valley of Mystery and others like her. With a smile, she dove down through the clouds. She wanted to try something first.

  ***

  Darine dove toward the town of Baern, swinging upward just as she approached the tops of the tallest buildings. As she rose, she arched her back, looping over and down to dive once again toward the city. She reveled in the bliss of her newly enhanced powers. She'd always dreamed of flying like this, ever since her power manifested. She executed one last loop and entered her last dive, planning to bank sharply and streak off to the park just before she reached the buildings. She'd only been a floater before, but she knew how to maneuver in the air. This was a bit faster than she was used to, but she so far it hadn
't- She collided violently with an aircar, causing it to spin wildly into another car, the two crashing into a wall. The wall collapsed and the aircars went through the row of offices inside, down through several floors before finally stopping, wedged into a solid stone wall. Darine continued toward the ground in free-fall, bouncing off the roof of a low-rise building before hitting the street below. She tried to push herself up to her hands and knees, but barely managed to twitch her hands. Random thoughts meandered through the vivid shocks of pain and a thick blackness crept in from the edges of consciousness. The pain began to fade along with thought, so she welcomed the smothering darkness when it finally overwhelmed her. She woke once to see vague outlines looming over her. One of her eyes seemed to be covered with something. It throbbed. Bits and phrases of conversation flitted in and out of her mind. "I'll set the bone. Can you knit it back together?" "The ribs will be all right and we should be able to do something for her limbs, but her face..." "Could be worse." "Aye. Did you see the mangled messes they pulled out of the wrecks?" "Damn shame. Anyone know what caused it?" "Freak accident. What about this one?" "Eh. Town Guard found her face-down in the street near the crash site. Might be from one of the aircars." Then the darkness took her again. She woke next in a strange bed, unsure for a moment where or even who she was. The room had the look of a hospital about it, which made sense given her most recent memory. She was extremely thirsty. She reached feebly for a cup of water on the table near the bed, her atrophied muscles sluggish. A man's hand lifted it to her lips, helping her to drink. The cool water was a hard shock to her parched throat, though soon she'd nearly gulped it all down. "Take a breath, girl," the voice said, not unkindly. "You'll choke to death and then where will we be?" Darine looked over at him. He wore the unremarkable suit most Inspectors of the Town Guard wore and seemed in his fifties. He grinned down at her. "How are you feeling, Ms. Kanto?" "Weak," she said. "Tired." "I can imagine." His voice was kind, though she heard a hint of steel in it. "I won't be long," he promised. He introduced himself as Inspector Mist, of the nascent Town Guard. He was investigating the aircar collision, as well as her own accident. "Thing of it is," he said, scratching the day-old growth on his chin, "aircars don't just crash into one another like that. Something has to cause an accident that big." Darine said nothing. The Inspector had his suspicions, but until she knew what they were, she wasn't going to offer him any information. "Then there's you," Mist continued, waving his hand in her direction. "You weren't in either of the aircars, we checked. So, you had to have fallen from somewhere else." He leveled his gaze at her, his eyes still kind. "Did you jump, Darine?" he asked softly. "W-what?" Darine hadn't expected that question. "It happens," the Inspector said gently. "Times being what they are, the straits our city finds herself in... well," he cleared his throat, "I can see why someone could want to end it all. Thing is, though," he said, "jumpers sometimes end it all for others, too. Maybe those that don't want it all ended just then." He gave her a look of sympathy and warning, moving to leave. "I should let you get some rest," he said. "I'll come around and see you again soon." Darine nodded. When she was alone in the room, she very softly began to cry.