Mencari grunted a response, then noticed the plasma balls growing in size, while shrinking in number. His shield no longer deflected them, but rather caused the plasma to shatter on impact. As if unprotected, his body began to feel every impact that landed on his energy field.
In moments, the steady smattering of attacks transformed into a thumping stream of individual blasts. They began punching deeper and deeper into his field, dissolving into an acid-like heat over his body.
He tried to reinforce his field, but couldn’t find additional energy to do so. With each hit, his frustration grew and focus waned.
“You’re not going to just sit there and take this?” R’oden chided.
The field was taking too much of his focus—too much of his energy. Collapsing his D’mok field down around his body would conserve enough energy for a counter-attack. Though, he’d need to dodge the incoming attacks if he didn’t want to feel a lot more pain. This required perfect timing.
Mencari allowed the energies of his D’mok field to recede around his body, while carefully studying the trajectories of R’oden’s plasma balls. In moments, he noticed a pattern to the attacks, a rhythm. He grimaced, inspired. Concentrating, the defensive field around his hands glowed with boosted might.
“And what do you think you’re going to do with that,” R’oden said, yet again increasing the power of his attacks.
With precise movements Mencari dodged some blasts while swiping at others. To his delight, some deflected back at the trainer; others collided with incoming attacks, exploding in blinding flashes of light.
This will work!
“Interesting,” R’oden said. “Got anything left?”
The trainer’s body radiated more intensely, staggering faster and even more powerful blasts toward Mencari.
Grunting with each hit, Mencari struggled to bat away any of the new attacks. Pummeled, his body began to burn with a seething pain. Hope of attacking with the conserved energies faded.
I’m not fast enough. This isn’t working!
Was that a smirk on R’oden’s face? Did he enjoy watching Mencari struggle? What exactly did the trainer find amusing? Mencari couldn’t help but feel toyed with.
A hot, tingling fury welled deep within him. With each new prick of pain this rabid power grew. Instinct drove him to reach out and use it. Yes. Rather than manage it, he would embrace it, consume it. Without hesitation, something within him made the connection.
Mencari shrieked as the power ruptured through his skin. Waves of fitful energy rippled out from him, distending his protective barrier. The pain of R’oden’s attacks became nothing more than annoying pokes, and a hideous strength burned in his muscles.
But the cost for tapping such menacing power quickly made manifest. He gasped as a crushing fatigue set upon him. An angry reddish hue bled across Mencari’s gold aura, and a crimson light covered his hands.
R’oden grinned moments before unleashing a flurry of brutal attacks. While they didn’t breach Mencari’s new field, it enraged him further and fed the source of his newfound power.
Mencari bellowed, “Back … at … you!”
A hellish energy exploded from his hands, piercing through his protective barrier and streaking toward R’oden. Before it could reach him, a wall of quivering air appeared between them and absorbed Mencari’s attack.
The aura around him swirled in changing shades of blood-gold. R’oden’s voice echoed inside his mind, as his eyes again grew heavy and closed.
This is your bridge.
In his mind’s eye, Mencari saw a beam of energy connect to the island. As he floated toward the sphere it began to pulse with energy and glow softly; then it grew, taking the shape of Mencari himself.
Feel the burn inside of you. Gather your power … and release it all at once.
In his mind, the air around him erupted in a ball of fire. Mencari felt the heaviness of his eyelids fade. The aura around his body glowed with renewed fervor as he opened his eyes.
“Yes,” R’oden said, pleased. “You’ve seen the way.”
As the moments passed Mencari could feel his energy surging, once again longing for release.
“Now!” R’oden yelled.
Mencari roared, releasing control of the power flowing around his body. The very air seemed to distort before immolating around him in an ever-expanding ripple. The same quivering columns of air formed along the outskirts of the room, damping the explosion. His power spent, Mencari collapsed to his knees. As the blast dissipated, so did the barriers.
“Nice, very nice,” R’oden said, applauding. “I was wondering how long you’d be able to hold out. That was a good start. Though, I’m not sure how you’re going to fare against the others.”
The door to the sparring chamber flew open. “Rhysus, are you okay?” Speru said, dashing in.
“I’m … fine,” Mencari said, dismissing the boy’s concern with a wave.
“You ready for some partner training before cleaning up?” R’oden said.
Both men sighed at the suggestion, but nodded.
* * * * *
You two seem like a natural fit.
R’oden’s parting words echoed through Mencari’s mind while they cleaned up and headed out to the games. His eyes were quickly drawn upward, revealing the full weight of a world filled with D’mok Warriors. Continual swarms of glowing Aloans flowed from every direction into the coliseum. Men, women, even children, all excited, streaked past.
To the amazement in Mencari’s eyes, the cadet said, “Nearly half a million can fit in the stadium. Full house, every time.”
Not everyone flew to the event. Many walked, albeit slowly, along the paths. It seemed like older Aloans favored walking. Though, the Warrior’s Garden was overflowing with visitors of all kinds.
While not as ornamental as those in High Dome, there appeared to be some formality to their outfits. Perhaps they were regional styles? Then again, even those that appeared to be families flying past had variations. Maybe an individual’s power type influenced the style of clothing they wore?
He expected to hear quite a roar from those passing by. Instead, only a subtle din of conversation hung in the air.
“I’ve never seen so many people with so little noise,” he said.
“Most mind-speak to one another,” the cadet explained. “When you want to address groups of people it’s more common to speak aloud—but they don’t have to.”
Of all the worlds visited, this one felt the most surreal to Mencari. The scene above was simply an everyday occurrence to these people.
The original D’mar had only begun to manifest their abilities when the Nukari exterminated them. What would the universe be like—or space travel itself—had the D’mar colonized this form of their people across the galaxy?
He recalled the beastly Nukari Warriors and their ability to open their own rift in space to travel wherever they desired. Then the remnants of the ancient D’mar that lived on the world Luon came to mind. They too demonstrated fantastic abilities like these Aloans. If this was any indication, there had to be other survivors still out there.
It struck him that a universe populated by superbeings might already be a reality, but not yet discovered. The concept should have been inspiring; instead he found it horrifying. What if they were not the altruistic individuals he’d come across so far? What if they behaved more like the Nukari?
“Hey!” a familiar female voice called out from the stream of people above.
Looking up, he saw the girl named Jeyla floating down toward them. Despite her claim of getting ready for the games, her outfit was amazingly similar to before. The only difference he could see was a faint pink tone of the halter-top, and a spectrum of color moving through her necklace and crystal strands in her hair. Next to Jeyla hovered a waif in stately robes and large round glasses. Combined with her long, raven-black hair, she had a studious look about her.
“Jeyla, Siana!” Speru said with a smile.
“You made it!” Jeyla said, giving him a hug. “And you brought your friend too, that’s great!”
Speru’s face grew bright red. “I’m an official escort.”
“Oh, I know, always very official,” she said with a playful dismissiveness. “So where are you sitting?”
“They’ll let us know when we get there.”
“Oh, then it must be official.” Siana snickered. “We’re in 120A-14—if we ever get in there.”
“What’s wrong?” Speru asked.
“Raitr’s late,” Jeyla said. “He’s always late, and we can’t really go in without him. Why do we keep inviting him anyway?”
“Because he’s my friend,” Speru said. “He’s probably still cleaning up back at the training dome. You know how much R’oden pushes him. He has his duties too.”
“Always coming to his rescue,” Jeyla said in a disapproving tone. “He could at least let us know sometimes.”
“I agree,” Speru replied.
Jeyla looked over at Mencari and flushed. “I’m so sorry, you don’t need to hear all this. We’re really like a family, and I love him like a brother. But you’re here officially, and we really shouldn’t be oversharing with you like this.”
The girl was quickly growing uncomfortable, perhaps finally realizing the cadet was telling the truth about Mencari.
“It’s okay,” Mencari said with a chortle.
“We’ll head over to our usual meeting place and wait for him,” Siana said.
“Warrior’s Garden, the oldest statue there,” Jeyla added. “Always so fascinated by people’s abilities.”
“It’s his job,” Speru said.
“You mean his obsession, and there you go again,” Jeyla’s hands flung skyward. “Let’s see if we can get together between matches. Or maybe after?”
Speru hesitated, then nodded. “Sure.”
“Have fun!” Siana said with a wave, as the two streaked toward the Warrior’s Garden.
“They’re nice,” Mencari said as they approached the coliseum.
Speru’s head bobbed. “We’ve all been friends since we were kids. D’abar really brought us all together. He’s good friends with Jeyla’s parents, they operate the museum. Siana’s father—another Elder in the council—works with him, and D’abar’s somehow related to R’oden. Siana is a cadet in the Leadership Council, overseen by D’abar, and Jeyla assists him on research projects too.”
The guard waved them through the same entrance as before. This time, however, they wound through a maze of back corridors until they entered the contender area.
“Won’t be long now,” Speru said.
Won’t be long? This whole endeavor already took too long. He had yet to get to the Coalition and get his answers. And if Osuto wasn’t worrying before, he certainly was by now. He had to find a way back soon.
The time passed quickly while they watched match after match through the holding area’s small windows. The cadet took the opportunity to brief Mencari about rules and techniques. While the matches rotated between team and personal matches, Mencari grew intimidated by the power and fury displayed, and the sheer size of the crowd. Unlike the quiet of the migration of people into the coliseum, once inside the roar was deafening at times.
Finally, a representative of the games entered. Unlike most Aloans, he was short, dressed in plain white garb, with a permanent scowl on his face.
“Come this way,” he barked.
They followed behind the representative into a side corridor and onto the field. The announcement of their match boomed across the coliseum. Swarms of people moved apathetically through the stands. Many seats were still empty.
“It’s still early, many won’t show up until much later,” Speru said.
Mencari stood and stared at the sheer number of people. If this wasn’t “many people,” he couldn’t imagine what it looked like full. He forced himself to concentrate. The golden glow formed around his body.
Their opponents stood some thirty feet away, and appeared to be staring at Speru. One said something to the other, the words lost in the noise of the crowd, and the receiving opponent shrugged in return. In moments they too had manifested power around their bodies.
Speru reached for his new hilts and looked to Mencari. “Ready for this?”
Mencari nodded. “Let’s do it.”
The boy pulled out the hilts from R’oden and squeezed. They pulsed with a brilliant light, before crackles of static energy arced between the bases. In moments, radiant blades of firelight blazed to life.
The response was instantaneous. A roar rose from the crowd like powerful waves crashing ashore. Those sitting jumped up from their seats. Hordes streamed from the inner halls as the identity of the bladed fighter exploded across the crowd. Not a single attendant appeared unfazed. The entire coliseum boiled in excitement. Even the opposing fighters stood in silent disbelief, their concentration broken. Mencari looked around in awe and confusion.
“What’s going on?” he asked, looking back to Speru.
A great burden seemed to weigh heavily on the young cadet’s face. The boy struggled to steel himself, but held his composure.
“This is what D’abar wasn’t telling me before?” Mencari said.
“The freak of Alo is here. I can do this.”
“We can do this,” Mencari corrected with a quick pat to his back.
A voice boomed across the coliseum. “The match will begin in three …”
“Be ready!” Mencari yelled.
“Two …”
A flurry of emotion ripped through Mencari. His golden shield effortlessly glowed with brilliance. The cadet gripped the firelight blades, causing them to flare. The roar from the audience became oppressively deafening.
“Like how we trained,” Mencari said, locking his eyes on their target.
“One …”
“Time to let go!” the cadet said confidently.
In Mencari’s mind, D’abar’s fatherly voice echoed, Good luck!
The crowd’s roar peaked when a battle tone rang. Their opponents took to the sky as Mencari and Speru charged forward. As they attacked from above, Mencari moved in front of Speru to deflect the blasts. Trying to find a way around the shield, the opponents began to move in different directions. Using the delay in their opponents’ attack, Speru sprang from behind Mencari, leaped off a boulder, and slashed deeply into one of the contenders. The crowd exploded in cheers as the opponent tumbled from the air.
In retaliation, the remaining opponent shot rays of energy at Speru. Mencari lurched forward, hand extended, wanting to draw the enemy’s fire. His hands immolated with power before unleashing a wide crimson beam. The blast knocked their opponent out of the air, careening toward the ground. As the aura faded, the second opponent hit the ground. Another tone rang out along with a deafening roar from the crowd.
It was over just like that.
“We have our first-elimination-round winners!” the announcer’s booming voice said.
Mencari ran to Speru who assured him, “I’m okay. My suit deflected the blast.”
“What else does that suit do?”
“Just help even the odds a bit—a gift from D’abar. He always said I may need it someday. Guess he was right.”
The short angry man emerged and escorted them off the field while medics ran in white streaks to the fallen opponents.
“Two more rounds to go,” Speru said with confidence.
* * * * *
“Watch it!” Mencari yelled as Speru dove behind a massive boulder, barely dodging a blast.
Four opponents didn’t seem fair, even when the cadet explained they were the winners from before, and were the last ones to beat this week. Despite their natural teamwork, and the increasingly growing power of his firelight blades, they were struggling badly against this group.
They were running out of places to take shelter, and the four were closing in. Pinned down and facing imminent defeat, Mencari extended his golden aura in a protectiv
e dome around them. If not for R’oden’s training, his original field would have buckled in moments against the onslaught.
He winced as the four coordinated their strikes, pummeling his shield. Panic welled inside him. Recalling what he and Speru had done to the other contenders, even with their medics and regenerative capabilities, getting hit by what these four were dishing out was anything but appealing. Fine time to start thinking about this. A vision of Osuto wagging a finger for not thinking things through flashed through his mind.
The four closed from all sides for the kill. He wouldn’t last much longer. R’oden’s teachings echoed in his mind.
Focus …
The attacks against his shield intensified. He had to move past the fear. Convert it as like he did his anger with R’oden. With each new hit he could feel a burning sensation, and the tingle of the blast’s energy. Ignore the pain, channel the energy. His mind began to chant the thought as his energies grew.
A blood-red color swirled within his golden glow.
That’s it, just like before.
The cadet huddled closer with Mencari, wilting away from the extended shield. With each passing second the field took on a deeper, blood-red color. Power coursed in visible surges from his body as Mencari breathed heavily.
Now, let it go all at the same time, he recalled R’oden yelling.
He released his control of the field. As if detonating a bomb, a shockwave rippled through the coliseum while his shield exploded uncontrollably outward. The crowd went wild as a dome of quivering air encapsulated the battlefield.
When the dust settled, the four attackers lay motionless, flung to the far corners of the arena.
“Victory! We have our victors!” the announcer boomed.
The manic, screaming crowd nearly burst through the security barriers.
The short, angry man emerged and escorted the pair back to the contender-holding area, and then a cleansing chamber. “Clean yourselves up, quickly,” he barked.
* * * * *
“I—I can’t believe this,” Speru stammered while they were paraded around the battlefield, part of a brief ceremony. Projections showing the last moments of each of their matches played in the air above the battlefield.
D'mok Revival: The Nukari Invasion Anthology Page 69
