It was a peculiar sight. A glimmering cloud—like mirrors in the sky—hovered on the edge of the Southern horizon. Goblin, having climbed out of his own Mole-Hole, pointed to the distant shape.
“I see it, but don't understand it.” Finn told the boy. “It’s never rained in the Crust.”
They walked to the shade of the food barracks. Were the supervisors meeting to figure out how a cloud had come upon them? If it were to rain, water could get into the mine. There were many volatile minerals inside that would turn deadly when mixed with liquids. Finn ate his supper in silence side-by-side with his friend, watching the distant shape. It wasn’t growing smaller and it wasn’t moving sideways, meaning it would either dissipate—or come toward them.
That night as Finn readied for bed, he wore Goblin’s present. His dreams were a mix of riches, dirt, and rainstorms. Awaking to the morning horn, he stepped out of his hut ready to go and wake Goblin. Still unused to the schedule, the boy had slept-in more than once before, already getting into trouble. Finn heard a shout and spun in place, remembering the storm cloud. Looking to the center of the outpost—as were the other miners who left their huts—they bore witness to an inexplicable sight.
Strolling into the camp with an air of confidence walked a goateed man in a metal suit. The man's suit, only partially covering his form, wrapped around his brow, hands, and stomach. A deep rich brown glowed from the abstract designs inlaid on the armor. In one hand, he dragged a large travel bag. It looked empty and was coated in dust. With the other hand, he tossed to the ground an empty water-skin.
But the strange partial suit was not what Finn focused on. Instead, he stared in amazement at what was above the man. It was a cloud: the massive cloud they’d seen in the distance. Finn opened and closed his mouth, body wobbling at the view. It was no ordinary cloud. It glinted with a million hues of color and sparkles. It took Finn a moment to recognize its composition:
The cloud was made of enormous gems, crystals, and precious stones—floating in the air.
No one made a noise or moved. The man walked past the limestone field and came to stop between them, the mine, and the Hub. The massive cloud followed him, making the softest of tinkling sounds. Squinting his eyes, Finn and the other miners stepped closer—like hypnotized cattle—moving between the huts in a daze. Astonished, Finn walked into colored shade. Looking up, he could see greater detail in the low-hanging cloud, resting what could only have been fifty meters above him. A massive pearl the size of five horses floated above his body, slowly spinning and reflecting light. Red, pink, yellow, and green tint swam across his pale cave-diver skin. How could a pearl have made its way to the Crust? Were they not found only near large bodies of water? How far had this man travelled? The other miners looked about with childlike wonder to their faces. Nearby, Gunther wobbled, mouth open and face turned upwards.
The strangely-clad man stretched out his hands. His combed-back curly hair reminded Finn of an animal’s mane.
“Men of the land.” he called to the miners; his voice loud, clear, and confident, his lips cracked from travel. He acted powerful, but his features were of a common man. “I thank you. I thank you all for your work and your sacrifice.”
Finn could see a band of supervisors leave the Hub, knit together in a tight group and led by Ublah-Kan. They moved forward in shock and fear. The reduced and remaining guards surrounded them protectively, iron spears at the ready and swords drawn. The stranger gave them a nod.
Ublah-Kan stepped forward, turban wobbling, pock-marked skin gaunt. His mouth tried forming words. “What—how... Is this magic?”
The suited visitor smiled, showing straight yellow teeth. “It’s much more than what you can comprehend, mine-owner.”
The supervisor stuttered, hands wringing together. He looked to the cloud and to the man so quickly, Finn worried he was having a seizure. It couldn't be real. What they were witnessing wasn’t possible.
“Oh great mage, what do you require of us?” Ublah-Kan asked, falling to one knee. He raised his arms outward. “To show such might and force! To command the very gems! What’s the purpose to this grand show?”
Most miners followed the House Lord’s example and knelt as well. A few others, in great fear, stayed frozen while many in House Crumm held onto defensive magic gems, gripped tightly in their hands as if warding off evil. Finn stood still, distracted by the pearl above him. A question hounded him. Where had all these riches come from? Were these... from the other mines? The partially-suited man, watching miners stoop to his power, smiled even wider.
“What do I require? I require everything. I want it all.”
Ublah-Kan was unable to reply. He cocked his head to the side, sunken eyes full of questioning. The magical man continued. “I am Nozgull the EarthBreaker. Now-appointed Commander of the Crust, Lord of all Lenova. I am a Star-Child and I will be the richest man in all the land.”
Finn turned his gaze away from the cloud to study the visitor. Something was wrong. The way the man stood, poised like a predator; Finn felt something in his gut—the feeling that arose before a tunnel collapse.
“A Star-Child?” Ublah-Kan asked. “I’m unfamiliar with the term. Are you of a magician's guild? Or perhaps of another Noble House?”
The strange man laughed, his voice echoing across the crags. He raised his right arm, indicating a metal piece of forearm armor meshed with the metal suit covering his hand. A bracer.
“This. This fell from the sky to land at my feet! I was chosen by the heavens themselves! Chosen to be more than mere drudgery! Chosen to rise above mortal coils! Chosen to abide by a different set of rules than those of Lenova! My rules. By the power granted to me by fate, I forge my future!”
There was silence across the land as the simple miners and their confused supervisors tried to understand what was being said.
“Great one, what is your command?” Ublah-Kan asked, trembling beneath the visitor's might. The suited figure, center of attention, relaxed his shoulders. He took in a deep breath and Finn heard it from all the way at the edge of the crowd.
“I declare unto you your law: all that comes from the land is mine.”
Ublah-Kan froze and looked toward the Hub. “You mean the stones? The gems? My lord, those—those aren’t yours!” The House Lord blundered over the words, terror cracking his voice.
The armored man nodded as if in resignation. “Why do I continue playing with you?”
“My lord?”
“You're not my subjects. You're not even worth the dirt beneath your feet. You already bore me.”
Ublah-Kan made the move to stand, his hands still wringing together. The armored man stepped forward.
“If you won’t give me what I want, then die.”
Without warning, a gem the size of Finn's hut shot down at the speed of lightning. It smashed on top of Ublah-Kan, burying itself a meter into the ground. The man was snuffed, like a miner stepping on a dry bug husk.
The miners stared at the semi-translucent object, then to the shifting cloud, and back to where the House Lord was no more. Sprinkles of blood coated the faces of the front-row miners. Finn couldn't think, his mind had frozen. Before anyone could move or say another word, jagged crystals flew like spears, impaling the rest of the supervisors and their escort of guards. Members of House Crumm bled into the sand, their lifeless eyes open far too wide. And thus the slavers died on the very grounds were rested the bones-turned-dust of their slaves.
Finn fell backward onto his rear, air hissing through his throat. All around him, boys and men screamed in terror. Precious stones, rocks, crystals, gems, ores, and other riches of the earth pelted like rain, striking miners dead as they ran away. One collapsed from a blow to the head. Twelve were smashed flat by the very pearl that’d hung above Finn.
Finn, shaking in awed fear, tripped backward and scooted across the limestone field. He was unable to look away from the partially-armored man. The Star-Child, as he’d called himself, waved his arms as if c
onducting silent music, controlling the stone cloud. With a flicker, thirty men were crushed, smeared as paste across the ground. Immediately the terrain soaked up their blood. A hard look came over Nozgull’s features as he lifted both hands above his head. With a scream of exertion, he brought his arms forward. The entire cloud exploded down. Finn yanked himself to his feet, running for his life as all around him men and huts were obliterated. He was shouting, but over the sound of destruction, he couldn’t hear himself.
Turning to look over his shoulder, dodging falling stones worth the same as a small city, he spotted the man making a claw motion with his fingers. The man's lips moved, as if beckoning something. His eyes… his eyes were euphoric.
To Finn's far right, the ground exploded, throwing screaming miners in all directions. Their bodies spun like dancing leaves, cracking against stones, and bending in odd angles. From the dust and dirt, a massive form moved and wiggled with violent rage. It shook itself free, unable to comprehend a world of light and space. It was a coal-coated vat-worm.
Unlike the Orpiment worm Finn had encountered some time ago, this worm smoked and sizzled, thick dark fumes billowing out of its circular mouth and from the cracks in its shiny black hide. Teeth wiggled in patterned waves, tasting the air, feeling the vibration of running feet.
It gave a hideous groan and barreled forward, its maw gaping wider than seemed possible. Both boys and men were swallowed whole, snatched into the black, putrid inferno of its mouth. They bubbled and melted faster than they were chewed. The worm carved a path across the outpost, killing, crushing, and destroying. Those who dodged to the side were rolled over by its fuming body, ripped to bits between the worm’s weight and the ground.
Finn fought his lungs, trying to stay calm like he’d been trained—impossible, it was an impossible task—and watched as the suit-wearing man focused all his attention on the vat-worm, as if he was controlling it. The worm was wiggling, Finn observed, fighting its own movements. It didn’t like the surface world, it wanted to return to the dark, but the armored man was commanding its coal skin. The worm spun in place, cutting back to catch the men behind it. None of them escaped.
Nozgull released his hold on the vat-worm and the creature thrashed in place, becoming a self-twisting rope, scaring the land and crushing many before diving headfirst into the ground. Earth billowed up into a pillar as the beast let out one final bellow, its fat open tail projecting chewed dirt and human remains. It disappeared, running away from the madness.
Nozgull turned to the Hub, where many had fled for protection. With another strained scream, he swept his hands to the side and the entire building rumbled and vibrated. Cracks ran down the walls and pillars, and stones slid sideways. The foundations grated and snapped. Like a deflating bag, the Hub caved-in on itself, collapsing into debris and dust. The tops of the crags above seemed to fold down like hands cupping over bugs, burying alive those trying to climb the cliffside to escape.
Nozgull, suit glowing as he panted, turned and stomped between the huts; collapsing those hiding within their homes and entombing them with flicks of his hands. By some miracle, Finn was still alive, having stayed near the edge of the attack. Turning in place, he wove between the small limestone shelters to escape the man and his line of vision. Those seen were killed.
The ground jumped, throwing Finn in the air. A sound rang through him unlike he’d ever heard before. It was the noise of Lenova tearing apart, the sky collapsing, the world breaking. The mineshaft exploded, its roof launching into oblivion, evaporating the Mole-Holes and exposing its insides. Dirt shot a thousand meters up and rained across the outpost. Dust billowed in rolling waves. The land dipped as cave systems below their feet shut closed. Gems, ores, and crystals flew out of the open shaft like upside-down rain, joining the cloud above. Nozgull was shrieking—screaming about wealth and power—his phrases jumbled like a lunatic, spit flying from between his lips. Stone slabs fell like walls laid by an invisible god’s hand, picking off escaping miners. The barrage came at insane speed, like comets turned arrows, leaving behind the smell of iron and salt.
Gunther came out of the dust, a crystal wedged through his neck. He made eye contact with Finn, opened his mouth, and collapsed. Like meat—he’d fallen over like meat. As if in a dream, Finn staggered past him, arms out like a crazy man, doing all he could to not drop to his knees and curl up. He made it to his home and dove inside, having no idea what to do or where to go. Beyond his hut, screams and explosions rang out. The ground shook and men died. Out of instinct, he grabbed his cave-diver belt, containing the stones he used in exploring. He wrapped it around his waist with trembling fingers. As he did so, a thought struck him: Goblin! Where was Goblin?
He jumped back through his door and was met with silence. There was no more yelling, no more running, no more movement. Blood and dust hung heavy in the hot air, hiding the landscape in a yellow curtain. Finn shuffled forward, his eyes grabbing at shapes, hardly able to see in front of him. What he thought was a rock was a body and a body, a rock. Finn didn’t know whether to make himself small or run back-and-forth. He could get hit at any second and he wouldn’t even see the incoming projectile. He froze in place, hearing a grunt in front of him. With terror controlling of his body, he stood still as a statue, waiting for the dust to dissipate.
It settled around two shapes, forming human outlines. Goblin and Nozgull! Squirming in silence, the young cave-diver was being dragged out from behind a rock by the armored Star-Child. The man wasn't killing the boy: he was binding him. Nozgull looked exhausted. He was gasping and his lips were white, yet he still had the strength to subdue Goblin. Noticing Finn, he grinned.
“Last one? I commend you on surviving! Unfortunately for you, I only need one servant to tend to me and my wealth! This one’s lucky I have an open spot! My last servant found himself out of my favor. I made him eat his own weight in opals. Literally.”
Cold fear clawed at Finn's heart. The man took a tired step forward to attack and Finn threw himself to the side, smashing his shoulder against a limestone hut. The force broke the wall and Finn fell in a heap, barely missing the wave of crystals magically thrown by the Star-Child. Untangling himself from a bedsheet, Finn jumped again. The movement saved him a second time as the hut behind him imploded like a door slamming shut, nearly crushing him to the size of a loaf of bread.
Finn ran for his life, arms over his head, objects whizzing all around him. More huts collapsed and stones flew at his heels. Finn didn’t know if he imagined it or not, but there was less aggression to the attack. Nozgull had no energy left. Either way, Finn was still in mortal danger. A glancing blow to his calf sent him to the ground but he popped back up, fear hiding the pain.
With no plan, no thought, and with nowhere to go, Finn sprinted in the only direction available to him: the Slaglands. He could see where limestone became black glossy rock. He aimed for the line, determined to live long enough to cross it. A shard of stone cut his arm and he cried out, but pushed himself faster.
“Run miner, run! Leave your friend to me. I shall care for him!” Nozgull laughed out. “Run from death, to death! Let it be so. Let the Slaglands eat you!”
With tears running down his face, with terror clutching his heart, and with the terrible thought he was leaving Goblin behind to that monster; Finn crossed into the Slaglands. He ran without pause, the fading laughter of the Star-Child chasing after him. Eventually he collapsed, falling against the blazing hot rock, his conscience leaving.
CHAPTER FIVE:
Lines Crossed
—Circa 4,200 E.E. (Economic Era-The 17th Era): Mount Khun erupts, spewing ash across most of the eastern desert. Rivers of gold and lava spill down the mountain for five years. Seizing control of the mountain, House Crookshanks gathers the wealth and builds massive forges to process the materials. Paying off their debts and bribing the King with gold, they are given a boon—which ten years later they use in the form of healers and medicine when their forge workers develop a vol
atile contagious illness dubbed the Stone Apoplexy.—
There was a line and Wahala crossed it. A border, a contrast; corroded death to verdant life. Next to her, the cult leader Mal'Bal inhaled the fresh air of Lenova, exhaling the stale mist of the Kingdom of Rot. His golden body glinted in the sunlight as he left dead land and stepped onto grass. Wahala was certain that the man couldn’t feel the vegetative texture with his golden feet nor could care less for what the sloping fields provided. Each heavy step he took made the landscape shudder. His yellow naked body created furrows in the soft ground.
Wahala and the cult had left the only land they'd ever known and entered a place of calm and tranquility. The color, the vibrancy, and the warmth more than offended: it brought them outrage. “False! It was a false state of being,” they hissed. “Only pain and putrefaction measure reality!” Their barren lands of death and lifeless terrain: that was symbol of existence. Life was calculated by how it decayed.
By Mal'Bal’s stance, Wahala knew he was confident in his mission. He had found a purpose far greater than just surviving. If life was only a path to death, he would assist the cycle. He would kill all species, races, and people. Through it, he would end the process of creation. There would be no cycle, for there would be no life to start it. Glorious non-existence would be all that remained.
A bee fluttered past the cult leader and he roared, swinging at the insolent beast. It dodged his hand and he swiped again, determined to crush it into goo between his fingers. Beside him, Wahala watched, her eyes narrow slits as she stared at the leader. Her new golden knees creaked as she shuffled her feet. The bracer had changed the Lord-Lich. The rituals and yearly sacrifices done to the million-dead walking the Kingdom of Rot were no more. Abandoning the Cult's sacred lands and temple, Mal'Bal had cajoled his people to come to the forbidden lands of light, an alien landscape the cult had never seen.
SunRider: Book 1 (The SunRider Saga) Page 5
