by James Somers
The prophet is certainly mysterious, if nothing else, thought Tiet. The promise of victory comforted him. Aija walked on past them. “We’ll see you when you return, Aija,” Tiet said.
Aija paused, but did not turn. Then he continued on through the children and proceeded to walk beyond the group through the tall grass stalks toward the hills in the distance.
“I can’t believe we have to go on without him,” Kale said.
“We’ll just have to trust Elithias,” Tiet said. “Let’s get everyone onboard. Like the man said, we don’t have time to waste.”
☼
Lucin felt the dull roar of the Vorn cruiser’s engines throughout the entire ship. He lay on the bed in his quarters, but he could not sleep. His fleet remained twenty four hours away from planet Draconis and his prey. That’s where they would be. He knew it. Time was growing short and the prophecy said Draconis would be the place. He had seen the Logostus many times. It was engraved upon his mind. But it would end up differently than the Eternal One intended—at least this time.
He stood and walked over to the large transparisteel view-port at the rear of the compartment. The starscape spread out before him into the distance. The massive transport ships that had been retrieved from old Vorn stockpiles were capable of carrying up to two hundred and fifty thousand people—they were little more than engines and crew carrier pods that could be dropped from orbit and take troops to the surface. They had been used by the Vorn for invasion purposes when sending their armies to Castai many years ago. He had a total of four allowing him to transport the majority of the remaining population as his new symbyte army.
The transports were useless for atmospheric fighting and too heavy to escape gravity under their own power—built, launched, and used in space only. Fortunately, Lucin still had six Vorn warships at his disposal.
He felt restless. This mortal form—this creature he was forced to be made him cringe with disgust. He wasn’t meant to be this way. He had been so beautiful--adored by the host of Mithrium and a favorite of the Eternal One. It was an injustice for him to be reduced to this, but Lucin planned to reclaim his former glory and rise above Elithias in adoration upon these mortal worlds.
He realized Mithrium would never be his, but these created worlds, they would be his to rule forever. Without men to redeem, the Lord would have to leave it alone or destroy the existence of man and surely he wasn’t willing to do that. Perhaps, Lucin thought, I might even be able to convince the greater portion of those that have not rebelled with me to finally take their places at my side and know true freedom. He had convinced many before—perhaps it would be possible again.
Dirge had always been an upstart. To think he had actually assumed leadership in Lucin’s absence. How presumptuous his brother had been, how naive. Lucin had quite enjoyed the matter of using the boy, Kale, to assassinate the Agonotti leader. He would have his place of leadership among his brethren restored soon enough, but he still wanted the boy. He couldn’t assimilate him again, but he could have revenge and remove a key power among the humans. Lucin stretched out his hands before him and the knuckles popped.
This mortal form was not nearly as useful for his needs as the boy could have been. His host body, the man Zurig had never been a warrior. He had always been a politician. The uniform he wore now was more window dressing than anything. Lucin still needed a real warrior of the highest degree, but he wasn’t sure who qualified.
Lucin looked out through mortal eyes at the universe beyond the transparisteel. How he longed to stretch his glorious wings again and take flight among the stars. To know no boundaries, no limitations—if this mortal flesh was anything, it was a prison. Perhaps he might bargain with the Elithias—mankind in return for the restoration of his former glory. Lucin caught sight of his own reflection in the window, but it was only the pale reflection of mortal flesh and nothing of his former glory in Mithrium. He clenched his fist and shook it, spitting out words of venomous accusation at the unseen Eternal One through locked teeth. “Look what you have done to me.”
ELEVEN
Ramah struggled with her heavy load. She pushed a cart of food from the fields back to where it would be prepared for the others. Thousands of other women worked in the fields guarded by the Agonotti. They grew and harvested from fields she did not recognize. They had once belonged to someone, but now they were gone—either the owners were prisoners somewhere, or they had already been killed.
She had a good life once, but the months since the Guardians had been defeated by the outlanders had been the terror of everyone on Draconis. Many thousands had died during wave after wave of Agonotti attacks upon the cities. Many others, both men and women, had been captured for their nefarious plans for the future.
Ramah was seventeen. Her normally thin figure had become boney mostly due to the constant hard labor and lack of food. The sun had darkened her bronze skin further and her raven hair was long and ungroomed.
Ramah wheeled the cart on toward the warehouse compound where their group was being fed. In another building her small sleeping quarters had been a place where animals had been kept and now the tiny stalls were used for the breeders. There were no beds, only straw to sleep upon. The Agonotti treated them like cattle and that was all she could look forward to for the rest of her life—working for in the fields for her conquerors.
Today, something was happening in the ruins just over the rise from their compound. Various clouds of Agonotti had been arriving separately and descending into the ancient amphitheatre that remained mostly uncovered. This is very unusual, she thought as she continued on inside with her cargo under the watchful eyes of a nearby Agonotti guard.
☼
Vock sat high upon the stone terrace that served as seating for the ancient amphitheatre. He had his back to one of the pylons that were located every one hundred feet around the high outer perimeter. He didn’t like to leave his back exposed. It wasn’t wise to do so with his fellow Agonotti about. Vock considered himself smarter than most and he had seen the deception and murder among their ranks in the past. Down below, he watched one of his old friends approaching.
“Teran? It’s good to see you again.”
“I had expected to find you down there competing for the position of leadership,” Teran said.
“Not I.”
“But you would do well,” Teran said as he passed through the ranks of Agonotti seated around them and sat down next to Vock. “After all, you were once second only to Lucin himself.”
“Exactly. I have no intention of presenting myself as such an obvious target,” Vock said.
“Well, I suppose. Who do you think we’ll be the victor?”
“Oric-tal.”
“But he’s not even from among your group.”
Vock leaned in close to Teran and spoke very low to his fellow Agonotti. “Oric-tal is quite vicious. The lord of my group is not nearly so brutal—I expect him to be destroyed in this contest.”
Below Vock and Teran, on the ground level, five Agonotti lords walked out into the arena. The contest for leadership would be decided today and the various independent groups of Agonotti would be united. Each of the lords took their place at equidistant spaces on the arena floor and a frightening transformation began to take place. The Agonotti lords became mist and quickly reformed themselves into warriors fit for battle.
Their exoskeletons formed devilish armor plating with spikes protruding and their heads became covered with helmets in like manner; all formed from their own molecular structure. Great weapons formed as living appendages in their hands and some had shields upon the other arm. Oric-tal held a mace in one hand with a cord upon it nearly six feet in length, hoping to destroy his opponents at some distance.
Watching from above, Teran pointed out Oric-tal to his friend Vock. “It won’t take long now.”
“Perhaps, but have you noticed what’s been happening to us recently?”
“What do you mean, Vock?”
“Our s
trength, it’s been growing; haven’t you noticed it?”
“I suppose so. I just didn’t really pay attention. We’ve always had a fairly easy time culling from among the humans. If we are getting stronger, what’s causing it?”
“That, my friend, is what I would like to find out. Something is definitely changing and this contest may be more enlightening than expected.”
“I had hoped that my lord Haisn might be the victor. I don’t relish the idea of following Oric-tal,” Teran said.
“And who says you will be?”
“We have all agreed to follow the winner. Aren’t you going to, Vock?”
“Of course, but I only said Oric-tal would defeat those down there with him in the arena. I don’t expect him to be the winner of this contest.”
“What are you saying?”
“Oric-tal is a fool. He’s mighty in strength, but we need more—we need wisdom.”
“But we control the planet now—”
Vock looked at him with disgust, almost raising his voice above the level he intended. “Is this all you want, Teran? To be the conquerors of a few weak humans—has your desire been driven from you completely?”
Teran only returned a puzzled look and a shrug of his shoulders saying, “What else is there for us now? We are cursed by the Eternal One.”
Vock looked around with his eyes. The other Agonotti remained completely engaged with the contest as the five lords entered into separate battles with one another on the arena floor below. Vock looked back to Teran. “This is a curse, true,” he said clutching his raiment. “We once walked among all the worlds of creation—we were meant for much greater things—”
“But we left our first estate, Vock,” Teran grew agitated now. “We are what we are now—better to forget the past and make the best of what we have left.”
On the battlefield below, Oric-tal charged at one of his opponents. The Agonotti lord, Zoe, somersaulted over him, but Oric swung back in expectation with his heavy spiked mace and met the warrior there. The spikes plunged into him finding purchase through a joint in his armament. Oric-tal did not wait to see the result. He pulled his prey back to him on the end of the spiked ball and dealt the deathblow.
Vock and Teran were drawn into the battle away from their conversation as the first Agonotti lord began to disintegrate upon the battlefield. “Only four of them left,” Teran said.
“Yes, only four…” Vock leaned back against the pylon with his arms folded pretending to take interest in the fight. Teran continued to watch and then turned back to Vock. He leaned in toward Vock this time and said, “Alright, what else is there?”
“Mithrium.”
“Mithrium? Now, I know you’re crazy,” Teran said. But Vock’s smug look said he wasn’t joking in the least.
☼
Oric-tal moved on to the others as the battle for supremacy continued. He took on two opponents at a time as they joined together to overcome him. Rane and Palice exchanged blows with their powerful Agonotti brother. Oric morphed his mace into a whip and snapped it around Rane’s arm. With as much force as he could muster, Oric sent him flying into Palice as he charged. They tumbled across the ground trying to recover as Oric pounced on them and dispatched both without mercy.
☼
“Haisn is the only one left with Oric,” Teran declared.
“And Haisn will lose,” Vock said confidently.
“So why do you seem so happy? You said Oric was a fool.”
Vock leaned in again, speaking quietly as he looked on at the two contestants about to square off on the battlefield. “Watch Oric.”
Teran watched as Oric-tal huffed and gulped at the air while stalking toward Haisn. His whip morphed into a great battle axe in his hand.
“What about him?”
“He’s fighting in a physical form and subject to its infirmities.”
Teran studied him again. “He’s getting tired.”
“Exactly.”
The two Agonotti lords, Oric-tal and Haisn, charged at one another. A fierce exchange followed. Haisn struck furiously at Oric, but could not drive him back.
“And—” Teran baited.
“And, he’s going to win, but before Oric can proclaim himself the new leader, a challenger is going to come forward according to our right,” Vock said.
“And that challenger will be fresh for the fight?”
“Exactly, my friend.”
“But can this challenger beat him? Oric is quite fierce.”
“What no one seems to realize is that we have been getting stronger, but not in the physical—in the spiritual. I can’t explain it, but I have been experimenting. Our former glory, in part, is returning.”
Teran looked stunned.
“Now, Teran, do you suppose our brothers would follow such a one that brought them this revelation?”
“Oh, they would indeed.”
Oric and Haisn grappled below them on the arena floor. The entire crowd of Agonotti warriors cheered for their respective favorite to come out the winner. Then the two toppled to the ground each struggling to get the dominant position. Oric got it and he used it quickly. He plunged a weapon into his foe and Haisn moved no more.
Oric-tal got up from the ground leaving his Agonotti brother to disintegrate behind him as he presented himself before the crowd as the winner.
“Now is the time.” Vock stood to his feet and stepped out from where he and Teran had been sitting. He looked back at Teran. “If you trust me, brother, and still desire the old glory, then back me up when the time seems right.”
And with that, he turned and walked down through the cheering crowd of Mithri in their cursed physical forms and proceeded onto the battlefield toward Oric-tal. Oric had not noticed Vock approaching yet.
☼
Oric waved his hands in victory toward the crowd, but the cheering turned to murmuring very quickly with fingers pointing into the arena. He turned to find Vock approaching him from behind--unarmed, but still daring to approach. The council members designated to judge the contest, and representing all of the five groups of Agonotti on the planet, stood as they recognized him. He had reputation and respect among many, but he had never acted so aggressive.
“What are you doing, Vock?” Oric shouted as he turned to point his weapon.
Vock did not speak to him. Instead he addressed the council above them. “I claim the right to challenge!”
Oric’s faced burned with fury. “Do you think you can actually win? Turn around now and walk away. I may show leniency toward you when I am Leader.”
“I claim the right!” Vock said again to the council.
They looked at one another, considering the request. Oric watched them half hoping they would consent to it. He still thirsted for a kill.
“It is your right!” the head of the council proclaimed at last.
Oric immediately rushed Vock before he could morph any weapons or armament from his form. But when his battle axe found its target, it split only the wind. Oric had charged right through him. Vock reintegrated so fast that he was able to smash his locked fists across Oric’s back as he passed.
Oric stood stunned. None of them could do that; at least not that fast. Oric charged his opponent again, swinging as he approached, but Vock pulled away through the air, his feet hovering elegantly just above the ground with a confident grin on his face. He remained just out of reach as Oric ran at him swinging wildly.
“How? How are you doing that?!” Oric shouted as he halted in frustration.
“You aren’t worthy to lead this great host, Oric,” Vock said as he touched the ground again.
Oric shouted a cry of war as he thought to charge again, but it was cut short. Vock thrust his hands into the air at his Agonotti brother. A force unseen smashed into Oric and yet held it him in his place. With a thought, Vock caused the ground to erupt before his rival. The rock thrust upward and pounded Oric’s stunned physical form. He reeled away landing in a heap twenty feet from where i
t hit him. His eyes remained open, but he didn’t move again. Soon Oric-tal’s physical form vaporized like those felled by his own hand.
No one spoke. Vock did not wait for the stunned audience to cheer him or the council to proclaim him the victor.
“Brothers, we have been changing in recent days, but we have been very unaware of it! What you have witnessed here today is part of this change. I believe it may be a return to some of our former power and glory!”
A pin could have been heard hitting the old stone comprising the arena floor as he paused. “We are not meant for this,” he pleaded as he pulled at his garments. “We are nobler than these physical forms we have been confined to.”
A positive reaction swept noticeably through the crowd. “We still have power. We still have some means to get back what we have lost,” Vock continued.
His pleading turned almost to accusation. “Is this all you desire? Have you not longed for the power—the glory we once knew before the worlds were?” The reaction gained strength, turning toward resolution, and then to desire unrealized as an evil hope sprouted among the words he spoke.
“Follow me!” he commanded. “I will lead you back to the glory we once knew—glory and power that are already beginning to return to our kind. We just haven’t realized it.”
The crowd of Agonotti before him erupted into cheers. Now, he could put his plan into action.
TWELVE
The dank atmosphere in the caves almost choked them. Taking a breath seemed like drowning. “Do these people actually live in this environment?” Emil asked.
“It’s just this area. We’re near hot springs that run through these mountains,” Jayce said from up ahead.
His lantern lit the way to guide them. Tiet found it more difficult to maneuver than most. The contorting to move around in the tight spaces rekindled the pain of his injuries. Mirah remained faithfully at his side helping him. Occasionally he had to pause to catch his breath.
