SunRider: Book 1 (The SunRider Saga)

by Hohmann, Rafael

  “My wealth! My power! My—”

  Finn's aim was true and Nozgull was struck on his wound. The pumice burst, releasing a powerful concussive blast of air. The oxygen hit the campfire and it roared to life, illuminating the clearing. Finn howled, lowering his goggles, half-blinded. Nozgull was tossed backward, arms waving like loose cloth. Rubbing at his eyes, Finn ran to Goblin, reaching the boy's side and lifting him to his feet.

  Nozgull fell into the fire and let out a screech of agony. Embers erupted into the air and the Star-Child’s clothing caught into flames. The pain must have been terrible. Distracted, Nozgull lost control of his power. Above the clearing, the massive cloud of gems fell apart, raining straight down.

  Finn yanked at Goblin, screaming at him to move. His legs dug into soft earth and he pulled them to the forest edge. Half-dragging his dazed friend, Finn yelled and ran. Valuable rocks of every type hit the ground; crashing, smashing, bursting, and crushing. Huge crystals slammed into the dirt, burying themselves meters down. Ores dropped and bounced. Gold chunks and rubies the size of doors showered the land, all causing a noise equal to an exploding volcano. In the middle of it all, Nozgull’s scream cut to silence as the massive pearl landed right on him, followed by many more gems. Everything went dark as the fire was snuffed out.

  Finn threw Goblin forward using all his strength. The boy launched between two tree trunks and disappeared into the vegetation. Finn dove after him as behind them, the entire cloud of wealth landed, obliterating the clearing with the sound of closing tombs.

  Finn's face and chest smashed into a root sticking out from the ground. One of the lenses on his goggles shattered. He rolled into a tree, wrapping around it, and lost all breath. The forest shook. As suddenly as it happened, it finished, leaving only the clatter of rolling gems. Finn held himself, poised for anything, but nothing happened. There were no zooming projectiles. Nothing at all.

  He raised his head, and with shaking fingers, put his half-destroyed goggles back on. He could feel a gash on his face. Hot blood ran across his cheek. He stood, wobbling in place, and shook his head. Looking about with his one working lens, he was unable to spot Goblin. Fearing the worst, Finn pushed through the bushes.

  “Goblin! Where are you?”

  A form moved in the dark. Finn watched as it crawled out of a hollow at the bottom of a large tree. It was Goblin—scared, but alright. Finn released his breath and ran to the boy. Goblin jumped in place, raising closed fists and ready to fight.

  “It's me, Goblin!” Finn shouted with a nervous laugh. “We made it! We're alive!”

  The mute cave-diver dropped his jaw in awe and danced in the dark. It was comedic and strange; something Finn hadn’t seen before. Suddenly, the boy froze. He made a questioning gesture with his shoulders and pointed to his own wrist. Finn knew what he meant.

  “I don't know what happened to Nozgull.” Finn replied. “Stay here, I'll go see.”

  Goblin shook his head in a no, but Finn's curiosity drove him to walk back into the clearing. What he saw made him freeze in place. Where once was a campfire was now a hill of gems. Scattered all around were hundreds more precious stones. As for the Star-Child, there was no sign. Finn had his suspicions deep beneath the mound, Nozgull's crushed body lay, a fitting end for the EarthBreaker.

  Finn didn’t know how to react. A slight wind passed through him and he put his hands to his knees. The miners of the Crust had received their justice, the man that’d killed them was no more. Finn backed away from the clearing, remembering Nozgull's words:

  How do you know of the visions? Did you see it? The black? Falling skies and the sound... the sound of closing tombs?

  Nozgull's visions had shown him his future. The bracer had shown him what would come. The sound of closing tombs. A word came into Finn's mind: fate. He tried to not throw-up.

  He left the clearing, but not before stopping and filling his miner's satchel full of small, clean gems. He stayed away from those crusted with gore. He packed his bag to the brim: diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and emeralds. He then returned to Goblin's side. The boy stood in the dark, his lack of vision not allowing him to do anything but wait for Finn's guidance.

  “Come on, let's get out of here and find a place to rest. I don’t want to stay here. Nozgull is no more.”

  The younger cave-diver nodded—pensive. What went through Goblin's mind? What horrors had the boy suffered while enslaved to the Star-Child?

  The two friends walked off between the trees, guided by Finn's half-broken goggles. Finn's thoughts turned elsewhere. Was he officially a Star-Child? He’d admitted as much to Nozgull. He felt at the bracer on his wrist, wondering if one day it would obey him. He remembered the suit; morphing and contorting to Nozgull's body. Where had the bracers come from and what were they? Above, real clouds broke, black and made of vapor, illuminating the forest in moonlight.

  CHAPTER TEN:

  The Toad and the Ferret

  —Circa 3,444 E.E. (Economic Era-The 17th Era): Pirate forces led by Malark Oakchest establish a base on the island of Lastiss. The Opal Dominion unites and forms the Black-Dog Navy: a group of rag-tag sailors loyal to justice and peace. The Black-Dog Navy is overwhelmed by the pirate forces and instead of accepting defeat, await for their boats to be boarded. When all the pirates do so, the navy members burn their vessels down, taking all the pirates and themselves into the depths of the waves.—

  Finn pushed through a bush that didn't want to let go of his belt. Swearing and yanking himself forward, he stumbled onto a dirt path. He grumbled, pulling a thorn from his bare foot. Goblin—following behind him—seemed to have no trouble with the bush at all. They found themselves on a wide road, the first sign of civilization they'd seen since leaving Nozgull’s camp nine days before.

  Although leaf beddings and sore legs were easy topics to complain about, the freedom to go where they pleased kept them in high spirits. Goblin had fed them wild mushroom and leek soups, foraged with skill Finn didn’t know his companion had. Finn in turn had entertained them by recounting the story of his travel in the Slaglands. Goblin consistently studied Finn’s bracer in curiosity and with silent gestures, speculated on its ability. It took a couple of days for Finn to accustom to Goblin’s hand signals, but after learning the meaning to many of the symbols Goblin used, he was soon able to have conversations with very few pauses.

  “You figure we'll run into other people soon?” Finn asked his friend. Goblin shrugged and patted his stomach. Finn huffed and turned away. “I know you're hungry! That’s been your only response all day long!”

  Goblin patted his stomach again and pushed forward down the path. Finn shook his head and followed, his own stomach rumbling. As they walked, Goblin made a strange movement which Finn didn't understand. The boy rubbed at his throat and made a pushing motion, as if trying to spit or force something out of his mouth. The actions were so comical, Finn howled with laughter. Goblin stared at him with annoyance.

  “I can't help it!” Finn grinned. “It looked like you were crawling behind a vat-worm with your mouth open!” Goblin’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and Finn sighed. “You know, vat-worms poop while they eat. Crawling behind one with your mouth open—that's what you looked like!”

  Having to explain the comparison dulled the joke and Goblin still didn't seem to understand. Finn waved a hand, chuckling to himself. “It's no matter. What in Lenova are you trying to tell me?”

  Goblin made the same gesture again, but also brought his arms out and shook them while closing his eyes. Finn howled with laughter yet again. “That one was even better! It looked like you crawled behind the vat-worm, puckered up, and kissed its rear! The hand thing—that was great! Were you weighing its dung?”

  Goblin punched his shoulder, clearly not as amused as Finn. He made the motion of talking and pointed to a passing bird flying above.

  “Singing? You must be kidding! All that lunacy you did—meant singing? I guess you want to be deaf as well as mute.” Goblin wo
und up to hit Finn again and Finn jumped out of the way, bringing his hands out. “Alright, alright! You honestly want me to sing?”

  Goblin waved an arm as if to indicate there was nothing better to do while they walked.

  “I don't know many songs, only those I heard from elder miners. They always had a happy melody or some sad warble about a beautiful woman. I doubt I could pull that off.”

  Goblin indicated he should try anyways. Finn huffed. He’d never sung before—only hummed a few tunes under his breath while in the mines. The idea of singing made him feel stupid. But it was only Goblin, and the boy couldn't even complain. He stared at the wide-spaced swathe of birch trees they were passing to the left. A bug buzzed near his ear and the warm sun shone on his neck. Cool air brought a hop to his step and the idea of freedom was still fresh on his mind. Finn smiled. “There was this weird miner at the outpost. He’d always sing these happy little tunes while he worked and a few of us thought he wasn't right in the head. He was transferred to another outpost, so I don't know what happened to him. I recall one tune he always sang.”

  Goblin motioned for Finn to continue. Finn cleared his throat. “It went something like this:”

  “A Toad went a-hoppin' from his home one morn'

  “You come back home!” said his wife with a scorn.

  Toad took three hops and landed on shore

  replying, “Don't worry, I'll be home at four!”

  Ol’ Toad sight-saw the dark forest nearby,

  using his long tongue to catch a fat fly.

  When suddenly Ferret appeared from a bush,

  spittin’ and hissin’ and givin’ Toad a big push.

  “You got in my way!” said Ferret to Toad.

  Toad then replied, “You were in my road!”

  The two pulled out swords to joust to the death,

  but both being fat, had run out of breath!

  Both being fools, not wanting to die,

  Proposed ‘nother option—on the fly.

  “I challenge thee Ferret, to a great eat!

  Whomever loses, must admit defeat!”

  “Owl can judge and declare the winner,

  Rabbit can cook and prepare us the dinner!”

  Ferret agreed and set out the plates,

  while wildlife gathered to watch the fools' fates.

  The large spread was grand, the meal divine,

  each dish was superb; each bite was sublime!

  They swallowed some soup, Toad gobbled a cake,

  They drank some wine, Ferret chewed on a steak.

  Faster and faster the two did eat,

  until Rabbit cooked so fast, off flew her feet!

  Owl’s eyes burst from trying to follow,

  the two foolish blurs, continuing to swallow!

  Plates shattered, cups spilled, food went a'flying,

  'til both drew quite near to choking and dying.

  All that remained was one morsel of cheese,

  which ferret scooped up with quite the unease.

  He put the last tidbit right into his mouth,

  silence reigned, from the North to the South.

  With a pop Ferret burst, all over the place,

  his body went flying, hitting Toad on the face.

  Food bounced about, glazing Badger in honey,

  annihilating Antelope and butchering Bunny.

  Smashing a stoat and slaying a snake,

  the rest drowned in soup, forming a lake.

  All that remained, was poor bloated Toad,

  flaying about on the soup-wave he rode.

  Half-drowned in food, and gargling foam,

  Toad finally made it, all the way home.

  Where there waited his wife, angry as hell,

  about to ring, a late dinner bell.

  She forced Toad to sit and forced Toad to eat,

  until he was full—from his head to his feet.

  Toad died in his seat,

  yes, he was quite dead.

  Yet his wife had the audacity, to send him to bed!”

  Finn finished the out-of-tune song with a bow. He turned to wait for Goblin, who’d stopped walking, bent with silent laughter and purple-faced from merriment. Finn gave a broad grin, remembering the first time he’d heard the song. He'd almost fallen down the mineshaft.

  “What-ho!” a voice called out. “What a melody! Makes you feel bad for the poor toad, doesn’t it?”

  Finn turned in place. From behind them, a wooden wagon came around the bend, pulled by a tired-looking brown horse. Neither Finn nor Goblin had noticed the incoming sound of the creaking wheels. An older man with a large straw hat waved to them from the wagon's bench where he controlled the reins. Finn waved back, feeling a blush come to his cheeks. The man had overheard his song.

  The wagon approached and came to a stop. The man, wrinkly as a dried fruit and tanned from head to toe, smiled warmly and gave a nod. “The name's Piscus. Where are you two travelers heading?”

  “I'm Finn.” Finn replied curtly. “And this is my friend, Goblin. We don't rightly know where we're heading. Possibly East in search of lodging and food.”

  The man's smile broadened. “Then hop in, I'm heading East myself! You two are in luck—I own an inn. It's in Pittance, a few miles down the road from here.”

  Civilization! Finn inhaled. He'd get to see his first town beyond the Crust. “Thank you!” he told the older man, hopping into the wagon. Goblin followed with a grateful nod. “Pittance? I've never heard of the town.” Finn remarked.

  The man shook his reins and the tired horse pulled them forward. “Pittance is a small town. Moved there myself a few years ago and built my establishment. Unfortunately, we don't see many travelers there. No sir, Pittance is a bit out of the way for most folk. It's a religious place, but simple. The townsfolk near-worship the bordering stream.”

  “Stream?” Finn asked.

  The man looked at them and gave a wink before turning back. “There's a small celebration and storytelling going on tonight—the town holds it once a year—and recount the legend of the nearby stream. You're more than welcome to participate!” Piscus yawned. “So where do you two come from?”

  Finn struggled with how to answer. He decided honesty was the best option—he wasn’t a very good liar anyways. “We come from the Crust—where the mining outposts are.”

  Piscus' eyes widened. “The Crust? There’s nothing but slavery, death, and rocks in that desert! It's no wonder you set out to see the world!” The man scratched his curved nose. His eyes glanced at Finn's shoeless feet and burned shirt. “Doesn't seem like you've had much luck on the road. You—” His voice faltered and Finn followed his eyes. The man was staring at Finn's bracer. Piscus' entire demeanor grew wary and his eyes showed...fear?

  “It's not what you think.” Finn fumbled, covering his bracer with one hand.

  “It better not be, young traveler.” the man spoke in a low voice, slowing his cart to a stop. The horse whinnied. “I hope you aren’t here to find amusement in killing me. I’ll have you know that I’m a proud and brave man. I will not beg for mercy from tyrants and murderers.”

  Finn shook his head. This man knew of Star-Children. Maybe even more than Finn did so himself. “I mean you no harm!” he stuttered out.

  Piscus licked his lips. “I would think one who sang so freely wouldn't be an evil individual, but it’s said the Chosen are cunning predators.”

  “The Chosen? You mean Star-Children? There's a bunch of them? I mean—a bunch of us?”

  Piscus eyed Finn carefully. There was suspicion there, but also doubt. The man was afraid, yet was giving Finn the benefit of the doubt. “You don't know much of the Star-Children?” Piscus asked him. “Were you not granted your bracer from heaven itself?”

  Finn paused. Should he reveal what had happened to him in the Slag? He mulled it over before deciding to tell a simplified version. “I found the bracer on the remains of an ancient Star-Child, one who’d been dead for many centuries. I donned it and now
can’t take off the piece.”

  Piscus studied him without word and turned to face the road. He tugged his reigns and the cart moved once more. “I believe you, Finn. Damn the Divine Stream, I believe you.” He let out a sigh. “You don't look to have an evil bone in your body, you don't. But how you found that bracer on a long-dead Star-Child confounds me. I thought them new to the land.”

  “So you've met one? Another Star-Child?” Finn asked, leaning forward and hoping Piscus could shed some light on the mystery. The man shook his head. “Not directly, no. Otherwise you wouldn’t have come across me, I’d be long dead. No, I only hear tales from passing travelers and those coming from the bigger cities and citadels.”

  “What do they say?” Finn asked. Goblin leaned in as well, curious as to what they could learn. Piscus scratched his nose once more. “They say stars have fallen from the sky, delivering bracers to souls across Lenova. Regular men and women have transitioned to Godhood, achieving feats beyond explanation; able to destroy entire populations with ease. But a few fight the call to power. There are Star-Children who have used their abilities to do no harm, but instead become protectors.”

  “Good Star-Children!” Finn exclaimed. He looked at Goblin and Goblin nodded. “If I can find them, maybe they can teach me about this bracer!”

  Piscus twitched. “Yes. It seems your kind are splitting into two factions: the wild and the controlled.”

  Finn paused. His kind. Was he no longer classified as human? Piscus continued. “The evil ones ravage the land, claiming cities for their own dominion. Some call themselves masters, while others call themselves Gods or emperors. Lenova is in a troubled state. The king has locked himself in his castle, muttering of bracers and more power. He sends out men to claim one for the throne. Citizens have lost trust in family and friends. There’s unease everywhere you go. Entire towns have vanished. A storm brews on the horizon, young travelers.” Piscus pointed to Finn's bracer, tree-shadow marking his face. “And I'm afraid you've made yourself part of it.”