The Aether Knight

by E A Hooper

  “Not happening,” Mulcir replied.

  “Please, my fair and noble prince,” Lucien begged, showing sadness on his face. “You could prevent untold tragedies on your nation, if only you take my hand.”

  “I won’t submit to a foreign nation,” Mulcir said, his voice booming like his father’s. “And neither will the Northern Republic. Or the Eastern Kingdom. The other nations hardly matter if you’re looking to take Ter’al. The stronger ones will never submit to your emperor.”

  Lucien’s hand fell to his side. “Oh my,” he said, sadly. “I understand the doubt you feel toward us. If only you’d take my hand, you’d see I’m doing this for your own good. It’s for the best interest of your kingdom and Ter’al. You and your family wouldn’t be removed from power. When we take over new lands, the emperor always allows its royalty to remain as a symbolic gesture. You’d only have to submit to us and our law. He might even choose someone from your family to merge into his line of divine rule.”

  “The emperors of the Idious Empire are very noble,” Jek said. “The previous empires tried to conquer my homeland to use us izans as slaves, but Idious has treated the cities and nations it’s acquired with respect. The desert city I was born in has seen a boom in trade and opportunities. The emperor even chose a humble izan like myself to go on this important journey. Such an honor would’ve been unheard of to my people in olden times.”

  “You must be a great fighter if they sent you here,” Odestrog called to Jek. “Are all your people as big as you?”

  “Our heights vary greatly depending on what part of Un’al we’re from,” the izan replied. “On some islands, izans are short as human children but fast as wyrgen. I’m desert-born, and we’re typically strong but slow. I was the best fighter in my city and found easy work in Fey’al, eventually catching the eye of the emperor.”

  “What kind of fighting you do?” Odestrog asked. “Sword? Fist? Hammer?”

  “Calm down,” Myamere told his friend. “We don’t have to fight them. We can talk through this.”

  “Sword or fist,” the lizard-man called back. “However, I prefer fist. There’s nothing quite as exciting as a close-up brawl. I used to do pit-fights for fun. Didn’t even need the money.”

  Odestrog tossed his great-sword to the ground. “Now, you’re really speaking my language.”

  “Odestrog, don’t!” Mulcir commanded. “Myamere’s right. We don’t need to fight them.”

  “But your uncle said I’d get the fight of my life,” Odestrog grumbled. “Clearly, we’re supposed to kill these people so Fey’al won’t know about us.”

  Roz eyed the Feyans, but she saw no weapons on them. They have at least three greatborn. Lucien, the metal-shaper, and the bearded guy with perception blocking. If we attack quickly, we might take them down before they can retaliate.

  Lucien smiled at Roz. “You look intense,” he said. “Maybe you all should calm down. We have an audience, you realize?”

  Roz glanced around. Several more Island Nation ships had arrived at the nearby dock, including a large and elegant looking vessel. A group of Islanders stood on the dock and looked at their group.

  “Enin, hide me,” Lucien said. “Let’s see what those people know. I think they’re called Islanders.”

  The bearded man placed a hand on Lucien’s shoulder. They took a couple of steps backward, and suddenly Roz lost track of them. Cauli’s sword tingled in her hand, but she couldn’t seem to find them.

  “I can’t see them,” Roz said. “This is different than the power he used earlier.”

  “It’s more concentrated,” the spotted wyrgen said. “Makes it almost impossible to see them unless they’re standing directly in front of you. He’ll steal more memories until we find authorities that will cooperate. I know you don’t trust us, but this is good for Ter’al. I promise.”

  Roz grabbed Myamere’s hand. “Come with me,” she said, dragging him in the direction of the Islanders. “We can’t let them do this. If they’re not going to talk, then we should stop them with force.”

  “Hey,” Jek bellowed. “Come back here.”

  The mountainous lizard-man stomped toward the Westerners, but Odestrog leaped forward and grappled him. “This is it,” the Craglayer yelled. “We’re about to have a fight of my dreams.”

  Roz and Myamere ignored the shouts of their friends and the Feyans. She could hear fighting behind them, and the Islanders on the docks gaped as they ran toward them. The Islanders began to draw swords and other weapons, but then a dense fog rolled across the docks, blocking everyone’s vision.

  “If you can’t see him, I might as well make it where he can’t see you,” Mulcir’s voice called to Roz and Myamere. “Hurry and find Lu—” A muffled shout cut the prince short.

  Myamere paused. “My prince?”

  Roz dragged the Godblade forward. “He’ll be fine, but we have to stop Lucien.”

  Chapter 12

  Mulcir watched Roz and Myamere run toward the Islanders. They won’t be able to see Lucien unless he’s right in front of them, he realized. So, I might as well make it where Lucien can’t see them unless they’re just as close.

  He took a deep breath in, drawing out his power as he did. When he blew, a massive wave of fog rolled from his breath. The fog rolled past his friends, the docks, and even into the nearby alleyways. The prince realized he might’ve overdone it when the fog spread back toward him.

  “If you can’t see him, I might as well make it where he can’t see you,” Mulcir called to Roz and Myamere. “Hurry and find Lu—”

  A shard of metal pierced between his ribs, cutting his shout short. Mulcir gasped, finding it hard to catch his breath. He turned and saw the teenaged girl using her power to pull pieces of metal off Odestrog’s great-sword. The metal rolled off the sword like liquid.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” the girl warned. She drew the liquid metal toward herself, formed it into another shard, and threw her hand forward.

  Mulcir blew a small cloud-wall in front of himself to stop the flying metal shard. As more of the fog rolled past him, the shapes of Odestrog and Jek disappeared from his vision.

  “I’ll go after those two,” the spotted wyrgen told the girl. He reached toward his chest, and his hand passed through his body. Mulcir thought he saw a hint of white light, but then the wyrgen pulled a long, curved sword with a one-sided blade from his chest.

  The wyrgen charged forward, and the prince blew another wall in front of him, but the Feyan ran past and disappeared into the fog.

  “Don’t worry,” the girl told the prince. “He won’t fight anyone who doesn’t have a weapon in hand. You only have to deal with me. Unfortunately for you, I’m the most dangerous person in our crew, and I don’t care about hospitality.” She waved her hands, and the rest of Odestrog’s great-sword turned to liquid. The girl drew it to herself with both hands. She made two streams of metal by moving her hands, and Mulcir would’ve thought it almost beautiful if he hadn’t been struggling to breathe.

  I think she punctured one of my lungs, he realized, growing dizzy. He circulated his power through his chest, trying to keep the damaged lung from collapsing. I’ll have to sacrifice some of my power to keep that lung working, so I can’t fight her by myself.

  He fell backward and formed a cloud beneath himself. The cloud caught him and floated into the air, but he saw the girl liquifying the metal railing just before she disappeared from his view. He continued upward until he escaped the fog and floated over the harbor.

  “Oh gods,” he gasped, gripping his wound. “I left my friends to fend for themselves. Why the hell do I always get poked by some mysterious girl?”

  A glimmer of metal caught his eye, and he looked at the nearby buildings. The girl had wrapped a ribbon of liquid metal around her waist, and the ends of the metal stabbed into the side of a tall tower. Using the metal, she climbed like a spider to the top of the tower. She shaped the end of one ribbon into a metal spear and then turned m
ost of the remaining metal into a long wire to connect herself to the spear.

  “What the hell is she thinking?” Mulcir asked.

  The girl pushed her hand forward, and the spear launched through the air at a fast speed. Mulcir moved his cloud sideways, pulling himself out of the way just in time. The spear fell into the fog, but the girl waved her hand over the wire, and it retracted back into the liquid-metal ribbon until she pulled the spear back to the top of the building.

  “Gods be kind, she’s spear-fishing,” Mulcir gasped.

  He pushed his power into his cloud, and it shot upward just as the girl launched her spear again. The spear cut the bottom of the cloud but didn’t touch Mulcir himself. He continued to climb higher into the air until he felt certain the spear couldn’t reach him.

  Mulcir gripped his wound, trying to keep his breathing steady. Dizziness overcame him, and he coughed blood into his free hand. Between the blood disease making me dizzy, and my lung getting pierced, there’s no way I can keep myself in the sky for much longer. The moment I go down, she’ll kill me. This isn’t a fight I can win. Why did my uncle send us here so unprepared? He should’ve at least seen this girl’s power in his vision because she’s not near the guy that messes with perception. He should’ve known. And how the hell was this supposed to cure my blood disease?

  His cloud dipped lower, and he struggled to hold it in the air. The girl watched and waited, her spear aimed and readied.

  Mulcir looked at girl and gaped. My uncle sent me here to die, didn’t he? There was no cure for the blood disease here. He wanted us to fight these people. He wanted me to sacrifice my life to stop them. Because he knew I was dying anyways.

  Tears appeared in the prince’s eyes. I was supposed to be king, dammit. I was supposed to take my father’s place one day. To accomplish great things. To take our kingdom to new heights. I was going to do that with my friends by my side. They’ve done everything for me. Fought for me. Risked their lives for me. All because they believed I would do great deeds as king.

  “Did you foresee this, uncle?” Mulcir shouted, anger and sadness in his voice. “Are you watching this on the strands of fate? Did you know I’d die on this day? That I wouldn’t fulfill my destiny of being king. Or was that never my destiny? The moment that girl’s blood touched mine, I was destined to die, wasn’t I?”

  He noticed the girl on the roof, watching him with a curious gaze.

  “Are you praying to your primitive gods?” the girl shouted. “I see your little cloud is sinking lower. You’ll be mine soon, savage prince.”

  Mulcir glared at her. That girl said she was the most dangerous of their crew. If I can somehow defeat her, my friends might survive. Not to mention, they need her power to propel the boat. If I can kill her, then I might save Ter’al from whatever fate my uncle saw.

  “Uncle,” Mulcir uttered. “If you see this on the strands of fate. If you can hear me. Please, make sure my friends survive this war.”

  Mulcir moved his hand away from his chest, and he felt his breath run out. He placed both hands on his cloud, and he put all of his power into it. The cloud dived toward the tower.

  The Feyan girl launched her spear, but with all his power in his cloud, Mulcir dodged it with ease. He circled around the tower, faster than his cloud had ever flown. The girl turned, revealing she had fashioned the other end of the ribbon into a second spear.

  “Gods damn you,” Mulcir shouted, his cloud racing toward the girl at full speed. “And gods damn your emperor!”

  Fear flashed in the Feyan girl’s eyes, and she fired her second spear. It hit Mulcir in the chest, but his cloud didn’t lose momentum. He collided with the girl at full speed as the last of his power left his body. His cloud vanished, and both the prince and the young Feyan fell several stories to the brick road.

  Chapter 13

  The fog rolled past Odestrog as he grappled the only opponent he’d ever met that was bigger and stronger than himself. With the izan’s huge body and rough, scaly skin, Odestrog almost felt like he was wrestling with a mountain. They both attempted to throw the other off their feet as they swung one another around.

  As their allies disappeared in the fog, the izan finally stabilized his stance and tossed Odestrog across the dock. The Cragslayer expected to hit the metal railing, but he noticed it seemed to have vanished. Instead, he landed on wooden boards and jumped to his feet as the lizard-man stomped toward him.

  Odestrog pulled his arm back and then jumped forward with a heavy punch that used the entire weight of his body. With Odestrog’s strength and speed, he knew the punch would’ve knocked out almost any man—or even killed them. The izan’s head jerked back as the attack hit, but he didn’t slow down. He slammed his fist into Odestrog’s stomach, and the tall warrior stumbled backward.

  “I’ve never met a man that could take a hit like that,” Odestrog said, surprised but happy.

  “I’ve never met a human that could throw a punch like that,” the izan said, wiping blood from his cheek.

  “This is it,” Odestrog said, holding up his fists. “The fight of my life. The fight of your life too, Jek. This is our destiny.”

  “I know nothing about destiny, but I love me a good fight,” Jek said. “So, show me what you got, Teran warrior.”

  Odestrog jumped forward with several fast strikes, but Jek held up his arms and withstood the blows. At the end of the Cragslayer’s flurry, the izan tried to backhand him, but the human ducked away. Odestrog hit him in the ribs several times, but then Jek caught him in the side of the head with an elbow strike.

  The human stumbled back but caught his steps before he fell. He felt blood trickle on his forehead but ignored it. “Give me a second,” he said, ripping off his cloak. He removed his tunic and shoes.

  “I’d imitate you if we were in the desert,” Jek said. “But my kind aren’t as adaptable to cold weather. Hell, I was sick for half the ride here.”

  “Oh really?” Odestrog replied. “I hope you feel better. I’d hate to win because you’re ill.”

  “I feel fine now,” Jek said. “If anything, it’d be better for you if I wasn’t at my best.”

  Odestrog raised his fists again, and Jek imitated. They moved toward one another, and the human threw the first punch. The izan caught Odestrog’s fist and then struck him in the ribs. Jek hit him three times before the Cragslayer grappled the arm that was holding him in place. Odestrog twisted the izan’s arm and then wrestled him to the ground.

  The Cragslayer put all his weight into twisting the izan’s arm, but he couldn’t find the strength to break it. As he tried to twist the arm, something scaly and muscular wrapped around his neck.

  A snake? Odestrog wondered. No, it’s his tail!

  The izan groaned in pain as Odestrog twisted his arm, forcing the lizard-man lower to the ground. However, Jek’s tail wrapped tighter around the human’s neck until Odestrog’s face turned red.

  Can’t breathe. Gotta break out.

  Odestrog released his grip on the izan’s arm and stomped on his ribs to keep him down for a second. He grabbed Jek’s tail with both hands and uncoiled it from his neck. Once freed, he backed away from Jek to catch his breath.

  “Got to watch for that tail,” Jek said, his voice strained. “That’s a basic mistake other species make when pit-fighting in Eastern Un’al.”

  “Thanks for the lesson,” Odestrog told him. “Now, let me teach you a little about how we fight in Ter’al.” He stood at an angle, his feet spaced apart. He lowered his head, raised one fist high, and kept the other fist low.

  “What’s this?” Jek asked, raising his arms in preparation.

  “Veri Ky,” Odestrog said.

  The man leaped forward with a fearsome strike. He couldn’t reach Jek’s body, but he knocked one of his arms away. His next strike, a hard punch with all his momentum, caught Jek in the neck. The izan stumbled back, but Odestrog followed through with several quick jabs. He targeted spots he had already struck, like Jek�
�s neck and ribs, hoping to inflict as much harm as possible.

  The izan grunted through the strikes and then tried to grab Odestrog with both arms. However, the human jumped back, narrowly avoiding him. Jek stomped forward swiping at Odestrog.

  The tall man backed away with fast steps, ducking and dodging the swipes. He felt his feet touch bricks as they moved farther from the dock. Odestrog could feel his heart pounding in his chest. If he gets me in another grapple, I might not get out alive. He’s too big and too strong. The only thing I can do is wear him down. Sweat dripped down the man’s forehead as he barely sidestepped another swipe.

  Every two or three swipes, the izan would leap forward several steps at once, trying to pounce on Odestrog. The human’s long, strong legs pushed him out of the way time after time, but he could tell the izan’s strength was wearing with each jump. Odestrog sneaked in a couple of strikes to the izan’s head whenever he missed, and Jek started to look more wild-eyed and delirious.

  I can do this. I can do this.

  A heavy sound, like a smack and a clatter combined, sounded down the street, and the fighters paused. They both turned and looked at the two broken bodies on the brick road.

  “Naya?” Jek cried, staring at the two bodies. “Naya, no! No!”

  “Mulcir?” Odestrog gasped, his eyes wide. “Oh, gods. Oh, my gods.”

  Jek turned back to Odestrog, a furious expression on his face. “This is your fault!” he screamed. “I was supposed to protect Naya no matter what.”

  “Go to hell,” Odestrog roared. “That’s my prince!”

  The Cragslayer struck Jek in the face with several fast punches, but the izan ignored it and grabbed him. Odestruck continued to hit Jek in the neck and face even as the izan lifted him off the ground and slammed him against the nearest brick wall.

  Odestruck hit him again and again, feeling the izan’s blood on his knuckles. He felt the weight of his own body collide against the brick wall several more times. Each time, the force knocked the air out of his lungs, but he ignored it and continued to strike Jek’s face and neck. The last time Jek slammed him against the wall, the back of the Cragslayer’s head struck, and his vision blurred.