by Clayton Wood
She thought of Owens' wife and daughter then, and cried.
Then she heard a lub-dub.
The sound of grass crunching beneath someone's foot reached her ears, so close to her that she froze.
Lub-dub.
Ariana paused, then opened her eyes, slowly raising her head.
Lub-dub.
She spotted a dark form laying in the grass...Master Owens' body lying on its back. She heard another footstep nearby, to her left, and turned her head slowly.
Lub-dub.
She saw a hint of black then, an inky boot slowly sinking down into the blades of grass beneath it. She raised her head further, tracing the boot upward to black pants, a black shirt with rows of glittering medals on the left breast, and then that familiar handsome face, two brown eyes staring back at her. Her eyes widened.
“Kalibar!”
Kalibar knelt down in slow-motion before her, his eyes filled with worry. His lips were moving slowly, and she realized that he was talking to her. Ariana turned her head, spotting two men in the black armor of the elite guard running in slow-motion toward Owens. They reached his body, sliding across the wet grass, droplets spraying upward from their boots as they did so. One of the guards reached out to feel Owens' neck, and turned to glance at Kalibar, nodding once.
Lub-dub.
And then time sped up.
“...are you okay?” she heard Kalibar asking. “Ariana!” he urged, shaking her shoulder. She turned to face him, and nodded.
“I'm okay,” she answered. “Is he...?” she asked, turning back to Owens. A gravity sphere had appeared around the fallen Weaver, and the two men flew upward into the air, the gravity sphere carrying Owens behind them. They both zoomed toward the Tower in the distance. Kalibar watched them go, then turned back to Ariana.
“He's alive,” he answered tersely. “I flew here as fast as I could.”
“Will he be okay?” Ariana pressed, feeling fear grip her. Kalibar said nothing, his expression grim. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders, the other behind her knees, lifting her up off of the ground in one smooth motion. She tensed up, expecting to feel pain in her right hip, but to her surprise there was none. “I'm so sorry,” she whispered, burying her face in Kalibar's chest. “I didn't mean to hurt him.”
“I know honey.”
Kalibar started carrying her back toward the cobblestone path nearby, the one leading back to the Tower. Ariana paused, then flexed her right hip experimentally, feeling no pain as she did so. It had likely already healed, as all of her injuries invariably did. She thought about telling Kalibar that he didn't need to carry her, but there was something comforting about being close to him. He'd been so busy running the Empire that he'd rarely had time to spend with her.
She nestled her head against his chest once more, staring up at his face. Kalibar noticed her gaze, and smiled down at her.
“Thank you,” she murmured, closing her eyes. She took a deep, shaky breath in, then let it out slowly, feeling the tension seep out of her. Owens was alive, and that's all she cared about now. If it had been anyone else but Kalibar that had found them, her teacher would surely be dead. No one else could have beaten her shard.
Slowly, and silently, they made their way back home.
Chapter 6
Kalibar gazed down at Master Owens, who was propped upright in his hospital bed, sipping a glass of light green tea his nurse had just brought him. The old Weaver was in remarkably good spirits considering his injuries. With multiple broken ribs and a collapsed lung, Ariana's shard had nearly killed him. If Kalibar had come only a few seconds later...
“Master Owens!” he heard a voice cry. He glanced up, spotting Kyle running through the door into the room. The boy stopped before Owens' bed, looking terribly worried. Owens' nurse glanced at Kyle, then took the glass of tea away after Owens had finished it.
“That'll help with the pain,” the nurse said. “Give it a few minutes,” she instructed. Owens smiled ruefully at her.
“I'm no stranger to it,” he replied, grimacing as he propped himself upright in his bed. Kalibar grinned at him.
“I remember,” he stated. “You broke your leg at Tigus, during the border skirmishes.”
“Not exactly a good memory,” Owens replied with a chuckle. Then he grimaced, putting a hand on the left side of his chest. Kalibar glanced at Ariana, who was standing next to Kyle. She'd been staring at her feet the entire time they'd been visiting Owens, saying little. Kalibar saw Kyle grab her hand in his own, giving it a squeeze. She looked startled for a moment, then turned to Kyle, smiling weakly. It was good to see them supporting each other, Kalibar thought. Ariana needed all of the support she could get.
“If you'd had the good sense to have a real Battle Weaver to chaperone you,” Erasmus cut in with a devilish grin, “...you'd never have gotten your sorry ass spanked.” Owens raised an eyebrow at the Grand Runic.
“Didn't a real Battle-Weaver save you from Ibicus?” he countered. Erasmus snorted.
“As I recall, my invention killed Ibicus,” he retorted. “At least I didn't get beat up by a girl,” he added snidely. Then he glanced at Ariana, putting a hand up defensively. “Not that that's a bad thing,” he stated hastily. But Ariana didn't seem amused. Owens turned to look at her.
“Come here Ariana,” he beckoned, patting the bed beside him. Ariana hesitated, then obeyed, walking up to his bedside and sitting down dutifully. Owens grabbed her left hand in his own two hands. “I want you to know that what happened wasn't your fault,” he stated gently. Ariana swallowed, then shook her head silently, lowering her gaze.
“He's right honey,” Kalibar agreed.
“I'm sorry,” she mumbled, still not making eye contact with her teacher. Owens sighed, patting her hand.
“I got...overzealous,” he admitted, shaking his head ruefully. “I spent all of last night figuring out how I'd neutralize your shard's shields, and I finally came up with a solution. It worked,” he added, “...but I shouldn't have used it while you were twenty feet in the air.”
“You figured out how to neutralize her shields?” Erasmus asked, suddenly perking up. Owens nodded.
“Her shard generates a dozen shields automatically,” Owens replied, “...when any nearby offensive pattern is woven. If I try to neutralize one of them, another is created in its place. So I created one gravity sphere around her shields, and put all the magic I had into it. It overwhelmed all of her weaker shields...her shard couldn’t produce enough magic in the short term to keep up.”
“That’s what I did to save you,” Kalibar revealed. He'd done much more than that, having to defend against Ariana's involuntary assault on himself at the same time. His experience fighting the Dead Man – and attending Ariana’s sparring matches – had come in handy.
“I should have realized that her shard would automatically protect her if her initial defenses were violated,” Owens admitted. “If I'd thought it through, this never would have happened.”
“That’s for damn sure,” Erasmus cut in. “If it hadn't been for Kalibar, you'd be a hell of a lot thinner right now.”
“I owe you my life,” Owens said, turning to Kalibar. Kalibar reached over and patted him on the shoulder. Erasmus snorted.
“Don't let it get to his head,” he scoffed. “It's already overinflated as it is.”
“Yes, well,” Kalibar stated, glancing at Ariana. “Next time I’ll be the one you spar.”
“No,” Ariana blurted out, shaking her head vehemently. “I'm not sparring again.”
“Ariana...” Master Owens began, but Ariana stood up, pulling her hand from his.
“I can't.”
“You'll have to,” Kalibar countered firmly. Ariana froze, staring mutely at him. Kalibar ignored the part of him that wanted to comfort and protect her, forcing himself to keep his tone harsh. “Sooner or later Xanos is going to attack us again. All of his Chosen have your shard, and if someone like Ibicus attacks you again...or me, or Owens, or Kyle...you'
re going to be the only one who can stop them.”
Ariana lowered her eyes to her feet, saying nothing.
“Ibicus would have killed you – and Owens, and Erasmus – if it hadn't been for Darius,” Kalibar continued firmly. “If you don't learn to be as good, or better, than the Chosen, what hope do we have?”
“Kalibar,” Erasmus warned, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You can't put that kind of pressure on her.”
“If I don't,” Kalibar countered, “...Xanos will.”
“That's not fair,” Erasmus insisted. “What could Ariana have done alone against a Void sphere? Or the Void Behemoth?”
“Maybe nothing,” Kalibar replied, his voice softening. “But if we want the best chance at saving this Empire...and ourselves...we need everyone to do what they can.”
Ariana sighed, raising her eyes to him.
“You're right,” she murmured at last. Her expression nearly broke his heart.
“Ariana...” Erasmus began, but she cut him off.
“He’s right,” she repeated. “I’ll do whatever it takes to stop Xanos,” she added. “We all have to.”
* * *
Kyle sat down in one of the many chairs surrounding the massive round table in the center of the War room, the chamber on the 40th floor the Council had used for their meetings ever since Xanos had first appeared. In addition to the large table, the room had communication orbs that allowed the Council – and Erasmus and Kalibar – to summon all levels of the military if needed. The orbs were not like telephones on Earth, in that they couldn't talk with anyone directly through them, but within minutes they could summon a messenger that could relay a message.
Kyle sighed, watching as Ariana pulled up a seat beside him. They'd been summoned to a Council meeting soon after they'd left Master Owens' bedside. Kalibar had brought Kyle and Ariana here to discuss a few matters with the Council. Mostly, they wanted to know about Kyle's absence...and Ampir.
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen of the Council,” Councilman Goran stated, sitting down in his own chair. He was an imposing figure with his jet-black hair slicked over his head, his black beard immaculately trimmed and speckled with gray. As the most senior Elitist in the Council, he'd inherited the mantle of Elder from the late Ibicus, gaining considerable influence and power.
“Councilman Goran,” Kalibar greeted, walking up to his own seat with Erasmus at his side. They both sat.
“Your Excellencies,” Goran replied. “Let's get to directly to business. What is the status of the Southwest Quarter?” Erasmus stood then, facing the Council.
“Construction of housing is almost complete,” he answered, clearing his throat. “Those still living in temporary housing are being brought in gradually. Construction should be complete within the week.”
“Excellent,” Goran stated. “The Council appreciates our Grand Runic's tireless efforts,” he added. Erasmus managed to force a smile, something that Kyle had never seen him do around Goran. Erasmus hated the man, mostly because Goran had made a fool out of the Grand Runic on countless occasions. Goran had warmed up to Erasmus – and Kalibar – ever so slightly since their escape from the Void spheres...and the Void Behemoth.
“What of the prisoners at Stridon Penitentiary?” Goran asked, turning back to Councilwoman Hess. She'd been tasked with organizing the return of escaped prisoners to the maximum-security prison, and to ensure its security once again.
“Eighty-six prisoners escaped,” Hess replied. “Sixty-two were killed, twenty survived and were retrieved, and four are unaccounted for.”
“And the prison itself?” Goran pressed. Hess glanced at Erasmus, who stood again.
“Entirely repaired,” he replied. “My Runics installed additional security measures, as well as backup magic storage crystals in secret locations throughout the city.” He grinned then. “I'll be damned if a Void sphere will drain them this time. I had the storage crystals and wiring insulated to prevent those things from sucking out magic so easily.”
“And what of the evacuation tunnels?”
“Permanently sealed,” Hess replied. “They're unusable now.” Kalibar cleared his throat then, addressing the Council.
“I've created evacuation protocols for Stridon in conjunction with High Weaver Urson, the commanders of each of our legions, and our neighboring cities. We will be conducting drills within the next few days to familiarize the Council and lower government positions with the process.”
“Our lives are in your capable hands,” Goran stated. Kyle couldn't help smiling; Goran had learned firsthand of Kalibar's skill on the battlefield a week or so ago, having been saved by Kalibar more than once. On matters of warfare, Goran no longer doubted his Grand Weaver. “Which brings us to our next order of business,” Goran continued. “The matter of Ampir.”
Kyle glanced at Kalibar, feeling suddenly uneasy. This, he knew, was the real reason Goran had organized the meeting.
“We all know that this ‘Sabin’ believes that Ampir – the Ampir – is still alive, and is responsible for restoring Grand Weaver Kalibar’s eyes,” Goran stated. “And for doing all of the things we assumed Kyle’s ring was responsible for,” he added.
“More likely someone who is emulating him,” Councilman Hewes, a scrawny middle-aged Runic, countered. “Unless you want to believe that a traitor who died two thousand years ago was resurrected to save us,” he added dryly.
“He's Ampir,” Kalibar interjected.
“How can you be so sure?” Councilman Hewes pressed.
“It’s the only logical explanation,” Kalibar explained. “Kyle's ring has been verified as originally belonging to Ampir. And as the inventor of teleportation two thousand years ago, only he could have instantly transported all of those citizens miles away from the Void Behemoth.”
“He's got a point,” Councilwoman Hess admitted.
“Perhaps,” Hewes muttered.
“How many people did he save?” Goran inquired.
“Eight-hundred or so,” Erasmus answered. “The death toll from the attack is unbelievably low.”
“We owe Ampir – or whoever this is – an enormous debt,” another Councilman stated.
“We can assume for now that the man – Ampir or otherwise – is powerful beyond our capacity to understand,” Goran stated. “But we can’t assume that he will continue to protect us from Xanos.”
“Agreed,” Kalibar said.
“Nevertheless,” Goran continued, “...making contact with Ampir should be one of our highest priorities...if not our highest.” He turned to Kyle then, his dark, piercing eyes making Kyle squirm. Kyle felt Ariana's cold hand squeeze his. “On that note, I'd like to welcome Kyle back to Stridon.”
All eyes turned to Kyle then.
“It is our understanding,” Goran stated, “...that Ampir sent you away for the last week, and that he's just brought you back to us. Is that correct?”
“Yes Councilman,” Kyle confirmed.
“Tell us what you know about him,” Goran ordered. Kyle squirmed in his chair again, feeling the weight of a dozen pairs of eyes staring at him. He shrugged.
“I don't know much,” he lied. “He never talks to me,” he added, which was mostly true.
“He hasn't said anything at all?” Goran pressed.
“He said he was Ampir,” Kyle admitted. “And that he was going to take me back to Earth...ah, home,” he added, kicking himself mentally for mentioning his home planet. But Goran just frowned.
“Urth...is that your hometown?” he asked. Kyle paused, then nodded. “Why do you suppose that Ampir is so interested in you?” Goran pressed.
“I wish I knew,” Kyle answered. This hardly seemed to please the Elder Weaver.
“You must know something.”
Kyle glanced at Kalibar, who returned his gaze silently, his expression neutral. Darius had made it clear that he wasn't to say anything about him.
“Give the kid a break,” Erasmus piped in, crossing his arms in front of his imp
ressive beard. “None of us knew about Ampir until Kalibar figured it out,” he added.
“I can vouch for that,” Kalibar agreed. “Kyle didn't even know who Ampir was – historically – until I told him. He's a mystery to all of us, Goran.”
“I see,” Goran grumbled. “So our Empire's fate lies in the hands of the man who allowed the Ancient Empire to be destroyed.”
“That's crap,” Erasmus spat. “There's no solid proof that Ampir betrayed the Ancients.”
“The history books beg to differ,” Goran countered icily.
“Only the ones you read,” Erasmus retorted, giving the Elder Weaver a withering look. “Things are a little more complicated than you learned in elementary school, Goran.”
“Our most distinguished historians...” Goran began, but Erasmus cut him off.
“Needed a scapegoat to blame for the fall of the Ancients,” he interjected snidely. “So we wouldn't have to face the fact that our precious ancestors were beaten fair and square.”
“Both,” Kalibar stated suddenly, before Goran could counter Erasmus, “...theories have their supporters and detractors.” He turned to Goran then. “I have to admit that I used to believe that Ampir was a traitor, as you do.”
“And what do you believe now?” Goran inquired, sending an icy glare Erasmus's way.
“I believe that the truth may be more complicated,” Kalibar stated diplomatically. Kyle saw Kalibar put a hand on Erasmus's leg, stopping the portly Runic from speaking up. “I also believe we may never know the truth,” he added. “The fact is, we all know that history is created by the historian, and that it often does not accurately reflect reality.”
“Granted,” Hess agreed.
“In any case, this particular argument has been dividing historians for centuries, and I doubt we'll solve the mystery today,” Kalibar stated with a sigh. “Suffice it to say that Ampir exists, and he gave me my eyes back, and he saved all of us from Xanos after Orik had Rivin and Bartholos assassinated. Whatever his past, none of us would be alive to accuse him today if he hadn't intervened.”
