The Joining: The Saga of the Shards Book One (The Cycle of the Shards 1)

by Chris Stephenson

  The item on the table did not resemble a full sword, but Critock would know the shape of the hilt anywhere. It seemed to beckon to him as it lay still. It was fully black, and to an unknowing observer it would appear to just be broken, part of a weapon that had been shattered long ago. He knew better. Of all the things that had happened to him in his life, his encounters with the Sword of Kon were the closest he ever came to believing his prophecy.

  He was shocked out of his stare by Alpha speaking to him again. “Go ahead, Critock.” It seemed improbable that he would ever have been allowed to look upon the sword again, let alone to hold it. But circumstances had led him back here, and for the first time in a very long time he allowed himself to believe that there was something special about his life, that there was a purpose to the strife he had gone through and his exile. When he placed his hand around the handle, clenching it within his fist, he first felt how warm it still felt. It wasn’t quite to the level of actually uncomfortable to hold, but it was a level of heat that suggested whatever energy was powering the sword was barely contained in its construction. Beyond that, the hilt was light. He effortlessly lifted it, and the hilt seemed to come alive, glowing with soft orange lights, and a silver metal blade seemed to materialize from the top of the hilt. When fully extended, its size was comparable to that of a skinny broadsword. It was a strong silver blade, constructed with unidentifiable metals even to the greatest metallurgists the universe had to offer. The blade itself split into two at it’s base, each one rising to a incredibly sharp point even after all the years it had been in service. The two singular blades were only joined by a small metal line in the middle, and other than that they stood independently. Between the two blades, small streaks of orange electricity flowed, their source as unknown as the origins of the sword itself. It seemed to speak to Critock, telling him that it was alive, it was ready. He waved it around in the air, his mind replaying countless battles, and the lives that he took with it in the name of Marconia. So long ago.

  “It’s exactly like I remember.” Critock whispered as Alpha looked on.

  “The Sword of Kon does not age. It is one of the two weapons left from the creation of the universe. It always was, and always will be.”

  Critock moved it around, and then jerked his wrist slightly to the right. Immediately the blade dematerialized from the top down in a flash of orange. A beat passed, and he repeated the motion, the blade returning immediately to its full glory. "Have you found anyone else that can use it?"

  Alpha shook his head. "As before, the Sword of Kon answers only to a child of the Shards. No one else can activate it, nor use it." It was indeed this aspect of the sword that had led Critock to believe in his destiny, once upon a time. No matter how many millions at this point in the limitless history of the sword had attempted to use it, it had remained dormant. No amount of tests or scientific inquiry had revealed how the sword had worked, but when Critock grasped the hilt, it awoke with a fury.

  Critock looked at the sword, turning it in his hand. "I used to think this meant something, you know? Only one in the universe that can use a alleged weapon of the creators of the Universe?" He looked back at Qua'roti Alpha, a sad anger burning in his eyes. "But it means nothing. I just happen to match the fingerprints of a God."

  Alpha was silent for a moment more, then continued. “Critock, you are right to be angry with the Qua’roti. We have mistreated you and ignored you for too long. In truth, our own power has waned to the point that it was questionable whether we could mount a campaign of this magnitude. Our faith led us back to you, and as we had no right to ask you what we did before so do we have no right now. But by doing this, not only will you save Marconia, you will be saving the Qua’roti. We will be forever indebted to you.”

  Critock said nothing, just moved the sword around as though he had been training with it for years. After a moment, he held it up to his face, watching the electric streaking between the blades. He remembered the last time he held this blade. He heard her screams again, and saw Pt'ron's face. He quietly spoke. “I’m not doing this for you.”

  When Tomkari came out of the machine he was woozy, and could swear he saw double of everything, but he also felt smarter than he ever had before. This was one of the side effects of the machine. After imparting all of its knowledge regarding the small green planet, it had left the wisp with a feeling that he knew exactly everything there was to know about Earth and it’s inhabitants, despite the nagging reminder that Marconia was only a passive observer to the primitive planet. He felt overfilled with knowledge, as though every second he was forgetting something important. He had to tell everyone everything he could before it was lost! But the Qua’roti keepers of the machine were uninterested in his facts. He frantically rushed around the room looking for Critock, but he wasn’t there! If he still had the ability to sweat he would have, and he headed out to the hallway to find him, or perhaps someone else that would be interested in knowing exactly how many species of insect were present on the planet. He finally found him, along with Qua’roti Alpha, striding towards him from down a dark hallway.

  “There you are! I thought you had left for Earth already!” Tomkari exclaimed, relieved that now that he had this knowledge, he was going to get a chance to put it into practice.

  “Nope.” Critock came closer, and Tomkari could see the hilt strapped to his side. “Just had to pick up a little help.”

  Tomkari whistled. “That’s very…” He almost lost his ability to speak when he realized exactly what Critock had in his possession. “Is…Is that…”

  “It is. Critock has wielded the Sword of Kon in many successful campaigns in the past, it is our hope that he will do so now as well.” Alpha stated, proudly.

  Tomkari was star struck just being in the presence of the artifact. He knew that the Qua’roti had the ancient weapon from the beginning, but he never had known where it was, and he learned very early on that when the Qua’roti did not want you to know something, then it would stay unknown. But now here it was…And all he could think about was Earth. Every time he tried to come up with a fascinating fact about the sword’s history and where it had been all that came up was historical dates about land mass discovery and which country attacked which country. It would be maddening, he thought, if he wasn’t so happy about the trivia that he had just learned. He noticed as he was thinking about the sword and Earth that Critock and Alpha had continued walking, and he rushed to join them.

  As Critock ignored Tomkari’s excited prattling about how Earth’s moon was formed, the three moved down the opposite hallway now. For a change, the hallway got brighter and brighter as they went until suddenly they were a cave-like area, with an opening exposed to the sky. As his eyes adjusted to the light, Critock was surprised to see that his hopper sat in front of him and was being prepared for the journey. He looked at Alpha questioningly.

  “We had to assume that you would take on the task as there is little time to waste.” Critock nodded as he moved towards his ship, but stopped when he saw the rest of what was being prepared in this makeshift launching platform.

  Two large missiles, in a greenish color, were standing tall in the middle of the room. With smoke and steam emanating from their rear engines, they stretched menacingly far above the group. Critock was a little relieved when he saw that the fuel hoses were still hooked up, but Tomkari stopped in his tracks just the same. “I thought we weren’t going to destroy them? Wasn’t that the plan?”

  Critock sighed. “That’s the back up plan. If we don’t find Pt’ron, if we can’t stop the Shards from activating, then those things go off. One at a time, they’re not so bad, just make a nice hole in the Earth. The two together…”

  “The Earth would burn, and the Marconian Empire would be doomed.” Qua’roti Alpha finished for him. The three were silent before Tomkari spoke up again.

  “How much time are we gonna have to get off world before the missiles hit?”

  Critock shook his head. “We aren’t.
If we can’t do our job, this is a one way trip.” Cutting Tomkari off before he could protest, he kept speaking. “On that note, should we not fail horribly, what's the contingency plan for a pickup? I doubt this planet has extra-solar communications yet.”

  Tomkari couldn’t contain himself. “They have limited wireless abilities, but nothing that would reach any farther than their own immediate planetary surroundings unless you wanted to wait a few years.”

  Alpha just nodded. “Indeed. We have prepared bio-communication devices. Place this on your wrist.” He presented a thin wire to Critock, who immediately placed it against his skin. Upon contact, the metal wrapped itself around his skin neatly, and then seemed to be absorbed into his body. “The device has limited power and is quite fragile. Do not let it get damaged, and only use it to confirm landing, and to let us know when you’re ready to be picked up, if necessary. If we do not hear from you after the allotted time, we are forbidden by first contact guidelines from mounting a rescue.” Clasping his hands behind his back, Alpha moved towards the missiles. “The missiles are each set to be launched shortly before the Shards will come out of their dormancy. By the time they reach Earth, each Shard will be active and will have bestowed their power upon their holder. They will lock on the Shards, and they will destroy the planet to ensure that they cannot again fall into the wrong hands. Please, Tomkari and Critock, please find them. Finish your job.”

  Critock nodded, and began walking towards his ship. Tomkari hesitated, and Alpha appraised him. “What is the matter, my child?”

  “I just…” Tomkari spoke slowly, embarrassed. “I’m scared. This isn’t a job I ever wanted. And Critock…”

  “Critock is a good man. He will do all he can to ensure your safety and both Earth and Marconia. You have nothing to worry about, you have already showed bravery in finding him and getting him here. I salute you, tender Tomkari, and I look forward to our next meeting.”

  “I will see you again, I promise.” Tomkari gave the traditional Marconian farewell, and with a last look, headed towards the hopper. Qua’roti gave a silent prayer towards the Five and Gods he both believed and didn’t believe in that the two would succeed in their task and save everything he had known from yet another destructive war. The hopper’s entry ramp closed, and the running lights flickered on a moment later. Soon the ship came to life fully with a small beeping noise. Blue light came from the engines, and it slowly began to move, hovering upward and rotating around. Shortly after, the hopper pitched up, and then faster than the Alpha’s eyes could see, it rushed into the sky with a large roar as it broke the sound barrier. Even after it was gone, the Alpha still looked up, hoping they could carry his wishes for a safe return all the way to Earth.

  As he looked up, one of the workers, a green skinned Keyar, carrying a fuel hose around the leftmost missile placed it on the ground, and glanced around him. Satisfied that he could not be seen by anyone of any concern, he held his wrist up to his mouth, revealing his own wrist device. He whispered slowly, knowing that the equipment on the other side of the communication would be able to hear him.

  “He’s away. Sending coordinates.”

  The Keyar, having finished his task, also looked up into the sky. He wasn’t sending wishes, in fact he was already counting the riches he expected to receive from his mistress for the information that he had provided.

  The hopper cleared atmosphere, and with a quick movement across the control panel from Critock, opened a tear, and in a flash of light, the campaign had begun.

  7

  The light was streaming in through the separation between the window curtains, and the alarm was buzzing its continuing annoyance, but neither of them mattered to Kyle, who was lost in his own world of worry and thought. He had woken back up again an hour earlier and his brain had stubbornly refused to allow him to be lost in his dreams instead of facing the day ahead. Between the awkward feelings that Shanna awakened in him, and what was due to take place between Brian and himself, to say nothing of what to do about his father, he was surprised he even had the energy to open his eyes. To get out of bed and actually be a willing participant in the events that were to come was another story. The thing that actually got him to move was fear of confronting his father, who was probably only a few minutes away from coming in and yelling at him to get up and to shut the alarm off. This was his morning off, and considering how hard he worked the rest of the week, he thought deservedly that he should be able to sleep in as long as he wanted. Kyle couldn’t argue with that, and considering how strained they already were with each other, he didn’t want to exasperate the situation. So finally, he moved his body around, put his feet on the floor, and reached over to press the off switch on his alarm. With great difficulty and argument, he stood up, and began the morning routine on what he thought could possibly be his last day on the planet, or at the very least the first day of the rest of his life.

  The shower done, he dressed slowly, not willing to exit his room a moment earlier than he had to. It was his teenage appetite that betrayed him. He was planning to just head straight to the door, but after his stomach growled, he realized that no matter how bad the day was looking, it would be that much worse if he had to do whatever it was he had to do while starving. Once dressed, he grabbed his bag and reached the kitchen only to find his father sitting at the table, quietly and perhaps a bit sadly eating his own bowl of cereal. He looked at Kyle, nodded, and then continued to eat. Not wishing to cause last night’s argument to erupt anew, Kyle quietly got his own bowl, poured the cereal and milk into it, and quietly sat at the table, avoiding eye contact. When he finished, he was almost a blur getting to the sink, grabbing his bag again, and heading towards the door. He was almost out when his father called to him. “Kyle…”

  Kyle sighed. He turned around. “Dad, I’ve got to go to school.” There was no time for any discussion. As Kyle continued and moved out of the house, the last thing he heard from his father was a plaintive “I love you.” Kyle didn’t reply. He didn’t have any time for that right now. Maybe after school, if he survived.

  His nervousness increased the closer he got to the school. It had to be his imagination, but his legs felt heavier. As he approached the crosswalk to get to the school grounds proper, he thought very strongly about continuing to walk past the school, and just see what would happen if he chose the option of not dealing with any of it, leaving Brian and Shanna and his entire so-called-life behind. Somehow he managed to think better of it, since he wasn’t really in any position to forage for himself, and even if his father disowned him and Brian beat him to a pulp and Shanna ignored him for the rest of his life, it was better than living life on the streets, if only just. It was the thought of Shanna that got him to turn towards the school, cross the street, and head towards the entrance. He tried to imagine what her reaction would be to the imminent fight. Would she be disappointed? Proud? Could he work this in his favor somehow? He kept a wary eye on the outskirts of the school for Brian, not wanting to have his day end before it began. Fortunately it was close enough to the start of school that there were very few students milling about outside, and he was able to breeze inside just as the five-minute warning bell started to ring. Knowing that there was little chance of both making it to his locker and making it to homeroom on time; he made his choice to forgo his books and chance of finishing any leftover homework and slid into his seat safely and with a minute to spare.

  There was nobody in the homeroom he wished to talk to, and it was short enough that he didn’t really have time to relax or even think about the same things that had occupied his mind for the past day. As soon as the bell rang he was out the door again without time to think, only having time to run to his locker to get the books for the remainder of the morning’s classes, though he knew that there was little chance that he would be able to concentrate through anything that was going on. As he got to his seat at his first real class of the day, his mind went right back to Brian, Shanna, and everything that could poss
ibly happen in a few short hours. As he watched the second hand of the clock slow down, he realized that this was going to be the longest morning of his life.

  8

  The great storm swirled across the gas giant, its color a brownish spot among the planet’s bland cream colored hydrogen landscape. It was a rather large planet, its size larger than the rest of the local system’s planets combined, yet still dwarfed by the local star. The storm had been going for hundreds of cycles and astronomers assumed that it would continue for hundreds more. From the stars above it was an oddity, one of the more unique things about the planets in this area of space but nothing that merited a closer look. To Critock, who was looking down at the planet after his hopper had emerged from the tear, it looked like nothing more than a spot of dried mud, even if it was slowly moving. He shuddered, marveling at how ugly space could be sometimes. He turned to Tomkari, who was peering out the window curiously.

  “Ugh.” The soul shuddered alongside Critock. “I’ve never seen a storm that big.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure the Qua’roti are real big on the beauty of the universe and the wonders that the Five have wrought. Then you get out here, and there it is! A great planetary pimple. You’ve got the coordinates for your favorite planet?”

  “Yep! So much water on it I’m surprised we can’t just pick out the blue light.” The ship shuddered as it switched to mental controls, and Tomkari entered the solar address into the ships memory. He passed control back to Critock and a star map appeared on the view screen as it automatically plotted the quickest course to Earth.

  “Looks like its only about an hour so if we speed. What’s the plan when we get there?”

  “What’s an ‘hour’?” Critock had been having a hard time acclimating to the new terms Tomkari had absorbed. The wisp had been talking nonstop ever since the journey had began about the different features of Earth, its people, and now its time. He hoped that once they arrived that the mission would take over Tomkari’s mind, because right now it was driving him crazy.