by James Somers
Everyone remained motionless. Mithri? What was going on? How could this all be happening? Facing the Baruk and the symbyte takeover of Castai-Rex—these were bad enough, but cursed Mithri? How could it get worse from here?
“The Agonotti that have been ravaging this world are in fact that host of rebels, cursed to half physical forms and allowed to prey upon man because of man’s unwillingness to turn and believe on Elithias,” the prophet said.
It was inconceivable—man being punished on this planet by the Agonotti. Kale was astonished. He could not grasp the fact he had been facing off with Mithrial beings.
“In their cursed state and partial dependence upon physical forms, the Eternal One has made these Mithri vulnerable to attack, and once killed their spirits are reserved for the final judgment,” Aija continued. “Now, that the balance of power here has been disrupted, they have run amok and caused this destruction. Elithias will soon end it.”
Murmuring filtered among the group now. The news of Elithias’ intervention on man’s behalf was so welcome to them after the pain they had all endured. They could barely contain shouts of joy.
“There is more, much more.” Everyone stilled their excitement to listen. “My King, the takeover on Castai was not merely a symbiotic organism. This was the Wicked One himself, Lucin.”
That name brought chills crawling up and down Kale’s spine. Lucin’s reputation as the enemy of Elithias and man had survived even with the loss of the Logostus to them.
Kale realized that he had been a pawn to the archenemy of the Eternal One.
“Lucin was cursed to exist among men in the form of the symbyte creature. He had been jealous of the creation of man and rebelled against Elithias. The Lord made him to bear existence from within a human host from that point on. Once again, Lucin’s power among his hosts has tipped the balance point with his takeover of those on Castai. Elithias has put a hook in his mouth to draw him here and bring an end to his dominance…but not to him, not yet. my King, you must lead an army against the Agonotti.”
☼
Now, Tiet had to respond. He looked around at his supposed army—a few left of his crew and family and a group of one hundred adolescents and children. “Aija, this is no army. These are only children and there are thousands of Agonotti--we’re hopelessly outnumbered.”
Aija gave a stern look that reminded Tiet who was really in control. “The Eternal One will provide you an army, my King. You must trust Him.”
Tiet felt scolded and appropriately so. Aija reached a hand for someone standing back behind him. A young boy emerged to join the prophet. It was the boy leader that had held his son captive in the basement level of one of the abandoned buildings back in Sector City.
“Young Jayce has provided me with information concerning a resistance movement underway here on Draconis. He will take you to their leader and you will find your army among them. Elithias will provide, but the battle will not be easily won. Within the Logostus is found the prophecy of the empty hand. The prophecy tells of one who will come to fight against the rebellious host and shall defeat them with no weapon in his hand. He will be the rod of Elithias’ judgment. The power of Lucin’s hold on your people shall be destroyed and the Agonotti will be carried away and reserved for judgment.”
“So you’re saying I will be victorious over them?” Tiet asked.
Aija looked at the king. Then his eyes turned to look at Kale. “The rod of Elithias’ judgment will be victorious, my King.”
This satisfied Tiet, even if Aija still sounded a bit cryptic in his replies
“There is no time for delay,” Aija said. “You must get underway to the place that Jayce will lead you.” Aija walked down the ramp and through the crowd. Tiet stepped to him, meeting his son and Emil there as well.
“Where are you going?” Tiet asked. “You talk like you’re not going with us.”
“I can’t go with you, my King. The Lord has called me to depart to a place apart in order to intercede for you.”
Kale spoke up and said, “But we can’t—”
“Master Kale, you must go on without me for now. I will see you again, when it is time. Remember that the arm of the flesh will fail, but when hope seems gone, pray.”
The prophet is certainly mysterious, if nothing else, thought Tiet. The promise of victory comforted him. Aija walked on past them. “We’ll see you when you return, Aija,” Tiet said.
Aija paused, but did not turn. Then he continued on through the children and proceeded to walk beyond the group through the tall grass stalks toward the hills in the distance.
“I can’t believe we have to go on without him,” Kale said.
“We’ll just have to trust Elithias,” Tiet said. “Let’s get everyone onboard. Like the man said, we don’t have time to waste.”
☼
Lucin felt the dull roar of the Vorn cruiser’s engines throughout the entire ship. He lay on the bed in his quarters, but he could not sleep. His fleet remained twenty four hours away from planet Draconis and his prey. That’s where they would be. He knew it. Time was growing short and the prophecy said Draconis would be the place. He had seen the Logostus many times. It was engraved upon his mind. But it would end up differently than the Eternal One intended—at least this time.
He stood and walked over to the large transparisteel view-port at the rear of the compartment. The starscape spread out before him into the distance. The massive transport ships that had been retrieved from old Vorn stockpiles were capable of carrying up to two hundred and fifty thousand people—they were little more than engines and crew carrier pods that could be dropped from orbit and take troops to the surface. They had been used by the Vorn for invasion purposes when sending their armies to Castai many years ago. He had a total of four allowing him to transport the majority of the remaining population as his new symbyte army.
The transports were useless for atmospheric fighting and too heavy to escape gravity under their own power—built, launched, and used in space only. Fortunately, Lucin still had six Vorn warships at his disposal.
He felt restless. This mortal form—this creature he was forced to be made him cringe with disgust. He wasn’t meant to be this way. He had been so beautiful--adored by the host of Mithrium and a favorite of the Eternal One. It was an injustice for him to be reduced to this, but Lucin planned to reclaim his former glory and rise above Elithias in adoration upon these mortal worlds.
He realized Mithrium would never be his, but these created worlds, they would be his to rule forever. Without men to redeem, the Lord would have to leave it alone or destroy the existence of man and surely he wasn’t willing to do that. Perhaps, Lucin thought, I might even be able to convince the greater portion of those that have not rebelled with me to finally take their places at my side and know true freedom. He had convinced many before—perhaps it would be possible again.
Dirge had always been an upstart. To think he had actually assumed leadership in Lucin’s absence. How presumptuous his brother had been, how naive. Lucin had quite enjoyed the matter of using the boy, Kale, to assassinate the Agonotti leader. He would have his place of leadership among his brethren restored soon enough, but he still wanted the boy. He couldn’t assimilate him again, but he could have revenge and remove a key power among the humans. Lucin stretched out his hands before him and the knuckles popped.
This mortal form was not nearly as useful for his needs as the boy could have been. His host body, the man Zurig had never been a warrior. He had always been a politician. The uniform he wore now was more window dressing than anything. Lucin still needed a real warrior of the highest degree, but he wasn’t sure who qualified.
Lucin looked out through mortal eyes at the universe beyond the transparisteel. How he longed to stretch his glorious wings again and take flight among the stars. To know no boundaries, no limitations—if this mortal flesh was anything, it was a prison. Perhaps he might bargain with the Elithias—mankind in return for the restoration of his former
glory. Lucin caught sight of his own reflection in the window, but it was only the pale reflection of mortal flesh and nothing of his former glory in Mithrium. He clenched his fist and shook it, spitting out words of venomous accusation at the unseen Eternal One through locked teeth. “Look what you have done to me.”
SLAVES
Ramah struggled with her heavy load. She pushed a cart of food from the fields back to where it would be prepared for the others. Thousands of other women worked in the fields guarded by the Agonotti. They grew and harvested from fields she did not recognize. They had once belonged to someone, but now they were gone—either the owners were prisoners somewhere, or they had already been killed.
She had a good life once, but the months since the Guardians had been defeated by the outlanders had been the terror of everyone on Draconis. Many thousands had died during wave after wave of Agonotti attacks upon the cities. Many others, both men and women, had been captured for their nefarious plans for the future.
Ramah was seventeen. Her normally thin figure had become boney mostly due to the constant hard labor and lack of food. The sun had darkened her bronze skin further and her raven hair was long and ungroomed.
Ramah wheeled the cart on toward the warehouse compound where their group was being fed. In another building her small sleeping quarters had been a place where animals had been kept and now the tiny stalls were used for the breeders. There were no beds, only straw to sleep upon. The Agonotti treated them like cattle and that was all she could look forward to for the rest of her life—working for in the fields for her conquerors.
Today, something was happening in the ruins just over the rise from their compound. Various clouds of Agonotti had been arriving separately and descending into the ancient amphitheatre that remained mostly uncovered. This is very unusual, she thought as she continued on inside with her cargo under the watchful eyes of a nearby Agonotti guard.
☼
Vock sat high upon the stone terrace that served as seating for the ancient amphitheatre. He had his back to one of the pylons that were located every one hundred feet around the high outer perimeter. He didn’t like to leave his back exposed. It wasn’t wise to do so with his fellow Agonotti about. Vock considered himself smarter than most and he had seen the deception and murder among their ranks in the past. Down below, he watched one of his old friends approaching.
“Teran? It’s good to see you again.”
“I had expected to find you down there competing for the position of leadership,” Teran said.
“Not I.”
“But you would do well,” Teran said as he passed through the ranks of Agonotti seated around them and sat down next to Vock. “After all, you were once second only to Lucin himself.”
“Exactly. I have no intention of presenting myself as such an obvious target,” Vock said.
“Well, I suppose. Who do you think we’ll be the victor?”
“Oric-tal.”
“But he’s not even from among your group.”
Vock leaned in close to Teran and spoke very low to his fellow Agonotti. “Oric-tal is quite vicious. The lord of my group is not nearly so brutal—I expect him to be destroyed in this contest.”
Below Vock and Teran, on the ground level, five Agonotti lords walked out into the arena. The contest for leadership would be decided today and the various independent groups of Agonotti would be united. Each of the lords took their place at equidistant spaces on the arena floor and a frightening transformation began to take place. The Agonotti lords became mist and quickly reformed themselves into warriors fit for battle.
Their exoskeletons formed devilish armor plating with spikes protruding and their heads became covered with helmets in like manner; all formed from their own molecular structure. Great weapons formed as living appendages in their hands and some had shields upon the other arm. Oric-tal held a mace in one hand with a cord upon it nearly six feet in length, hoping to destroy his opponents at some distance.
Watching from above, Teran pointed out Oric-tal to his friend Vock. “It won’t take long now.”
“Perhaps, but have you noticed what’s been happening to us recently?”
“What do you mean, Vock?”
“Our strength, it’s been growing; haven’t you noticed it?”
“I suppose so. I just didn’t really pay attention. We’ve always had a fairly easy time culling from among the humans. If we are getting stronger, what’s causing it?”
“That, my friend, is what I would like to find out. Something is definitely changing and this contest may be more enlightening than expected.”
“I had hoped that my lord Haisn might be the victor. I don’t relish the idea of following Oric-tal,” Teran said.
“And who says you will be?”
“We have all agreed to follow the winner. Aren’t you going to, Vock?”
“Of course, but I only said Oric-tal would defeat those down there with him in the arena. I don’t expect him to be the winner of this contest.”
“What are you saying?”
“Oric-tal is a fool. He’s mighty in strength, but we need more—we need wisdom.”
“But we control the planet now—”
Vock looked at him with disgust, almost raising his voice above the level he intended. “Is this all you want, Teran? To be the conquerors of a few weak humans—has your desire been driven from you completely?”
Teran only returned a puzzled look and a shrug of his shoulders saying, “What else is there for us now? We are cursed by the Eternal One.”
Vock looked around with his eyes. The other Agonotti remained completely engaged with the contest as the five lords entered into separate battles with one another on the arena floor below. Vock looked back to Teran. “This is a curse, true,” he said clutching his raiment. “We once walked among all the worlds of creation—we were meant for much greater things—”
“But we left our first estate, Vock,” Teran grew agitated now. “We are what we are now—better to forget the past and make the best of what we have left.”
On the battlefield below, Oric-tal charged at one of his opponents. The Agonotti lord, Zoe, somersaulted over him, but Oric swung back in expectation with his heavy spiked mace and met the warrior there. The spikes plunged into him finding purchase through a joint in his armament. Oric-tal did not wait to see the result. He pulled his prey back to him on the end of the spiked ball and dealt the deathblow.
Vock and Teran were drawn into the battle away from their conversation as the first Agonotti lord began to disintegrate upon the battlefield. “Only four of them left,” Teran said.
“Yes, only four…” Vock leaned back against the pylon with his arms folded pretending to take interest in the fight. Teran continued to watch and then turned back to Vock. He leaned in toward Vock this time and said, “Alright, what else is there?”
“Mithrium.”
“Mithrium? Now, I know you’re crazy,” Teran said. But Vock’s smug look said he wasn’t joking in the least.
☼
Oric-tal moved on to the others as the battle for supremacy continued. He took on two opponents at a time as they joined together to overcome him. Rane and Palice exchanged blows with their powerful Agonotti brother. Oric morphed his mace into a whip and snapped it around Rane’s arm. With as much force as he could muster, Oric sent him flying into Palice as he charged. They tumbled across the ground trying to recover as Oric pounced on them and dispatched both without mercy.
☼
“Haisn is the only one left with Oric,” Teran declared.
“And Haisn will lose,” Vock said confidently.
“So why do you seem so happy? You said Oric was a fool.”
Vock leaned in again, speaking quietly as he looked on at the two contestants about to square off on the battlefield. “Watch Oric.”
Teran watched as Oric-tal huffed and gulped at the air while stalking toward Haisn. His whip morphed into a great battle axe in his hand.
“What about him?”
“He’s fighting in a physical form and subject to its infirmities.”
Teran studied him again. “He’s getting tired.”
“Exactly.”
The two Agonotti lords, Oric-tal and Haisn, charged at one another. A fierce exchange followed. Haisn struck furiously at Oric, but could not drive him back.
“And—” Teran baited.
“And, he’s going to win, but before Oric can proclaim himself the new leader, a challenger is going to come forward according to our right,” Vock said.
“And that challenger will be fresh for the fight?”
“Exactly, my friend.”
“But can this challenger beat him? Oric is quite fierce.”
“What no one seems to realize is that we have been getting stronger, but not in the physical—in the spiritual. I can’t explain it, but I have been experimenting. Our former glory, in part, is returning.”
Teran looked stunned.
“Now, Teran, do you suppose our brothers would follow such a one that brought them this revelation?”
“Oh, they would indeed.”
