Ghosts of Lyarra

by Damian Shishkin

  SIXTEEN

  Lyarran Throne World Havyiin; Imperial Palace

  In the hours after the death of Myril and the rest of the Guild, Havyiin’s population had exploded past all previous levels. Floods of Paxyn, J’Karin, and other species migrated to the throne world after witnessing a shocking resurrection. Bryx tried hard, with the meager pickings of security, to maintain Iana’s safety, but was failing to keep the Empress separated from the masses. It came as a relief to him when the Dark Light arrived in orbit and Axyn brought his Ifierin to remedy the giant J’Karin’s woes.

  Accompanying Axyn to the surface was Sara, who was more than relieved to be on solid ground after what seemed like a lifetime in space. As much of an honor it was, to be the first human to travel across the galaxy, she would give it all up to be home again. But for now she would enjoy the party; the music and cheers beckoned her as soon as the transport touched down. When the doors opened, it wasn’t the joyous chaos she expected; rather it was more of a controlled and respectful celebration of victory.

  It wasn’t the rowdy parties she remembered from back on Earth; no one was trouncing the well planned gardens of flowers and lying unconscious in the bushes. Where there was open space for paths there were gatherings of beings from different worlds, and in open areas there were larger groups. All were dancing, cheering and smiling as a band unlike any Sara had ever seen played on from the stage intended for a different purpose. All the way to the spaceport there were citizens of the Lyarran Empire, but despite the large numbers it wasn’t hard to move through the crowd.

  Iana and Bryx were not hard to find; the J’Karin had moved her to the steps of the Imperial Palace’s entrance where not only was she more visible to the public, but it was much easier to assess threats from the higher vantage point. The two were quite the contrast; Bryx with his usual scowl as his eyes scanned the crowd and Iana with her glowing smile greeting all who called out to her. Iana had been renewed by this ordeal, and with a new lease on life she was better than before.

  Sara marched on with the Ifierin towards the Empress; eager to aide Bryx in his cries for better protection. She felt the wind catch her hair as it flowed with the breeze; yet another sensation she sorely missed the last while. As they approached, she could see Lyxia off to the left of the Empress with her neck craned and her eyes scanning the crowd. She was looking for the missing piece of the puzzle and the one that Sara hoped to see as well, but Aen was nowhere to be found. Their eyes met, and Lyxia greeted her with a nervous smile.

  “Hail, my dear Sara!” Lyxia called out. “It is good to see you well and safe.”

  “You too.” Sara replied, mounting the steps and the two embraced. “Though I sense it is not me you were searching for.”

  “Have you seen him?” Lyxia asked desperately. “He disappeared before I could get here, and no one has seen him since.”

  “I saw that too, though it was on the video cast.” Sara answered. “And I have not seen him yet, but I am worried. I have seen that troubled look on his face before, and it worries me that he isn’t here with you.”

  The two shared a look, as the words had been said rang too true. Despite the victory and the time of celebration, something had troubled Aen before vanishing. In concert, the women looked at Iana who returned their look with a smile.

  “Aen is not far away.” She said before they could ask. “And though he wishes to be with us, right now he does not wish to be found. He is filled with much turmoil, and until it is settled he cannot join us.”

  “So he is here still?” Lyxia pleaded.

  “I too noticed his absence, and I reached out with my mind to find him.” The Empress continued. “And though he masked his location, he left me with a reminder of what is yet to come.”

  “A reminder?” Sara inquired.

  “That this isn’t over yet.” Iana’s face went serious as she answered, and her eyes showed the weariness she masked so well.

  All of this had worn them all out and it had been such a relief to see it end with the dagger sinking into Myril’s skull. Emotions were raw, patience had been tested, and all of them were in need of a break. But Iana’s message from Aen was the last thing any of them wanted to hear, and silently they knew that though they had won this battle, the outcome of the looming war was still very much in doubt.

  —

  It was a party like no other; a somber occasion turned jubilant as the Empress was not only alive but had triumphantly returned to claim her throne from the clutches of those with nefarious intentions. The palatial gardens of Havyiin were more alive in celebration than ever before, and even Iana was reveling in the festivities. A wrong had been righted, and although there were tons of questions to be answered, but those could wait until morning.

  But not everyone was in a celebrating mood; the instrument to the victory was absent and went unnoticed by all. Aen had retreated to the throne room of the Imperial palace, and sat upon the throne with his head in his hands. He was going over the clues that had come up over the past year or so; all the little pointers to who was really behind all of this.

  The whispers of the great void, the panic in the whispers of the Prophets, the foreboding warnings of Palla and the other prisoners before they expired; all of it painted a background to the picture of Myril that he had yet to truly see in clarity. It wasn’t until the priestess’ dying words that Aen had clued in to who was really pulling the strings ; and by then it was too late to stop the dark machine rolling towards them.

  Now he waited; not to hide from the party goers, but to be the first to face the new evil that awaited them. When he shrunk away from the celebration, Aen knew the throne room would be the place to be. If the enemy wasn’t aware of what had happened, it would look to review the day with its patsy Empress after her coronation. There were no guards at the door of the room, and even if there were, he doubted they would stop him as he entered where few have ever set foot before.

  The instant his foot touched the floor inside, it lit up in a dazzling display of the Milky Way galaxy. It stopped him in his tracks; though he had seen a similar display in the Lyarran compound back on Earth, it paled in comparison to the clarity and detail of this one. It had everything down to a minute detail, including nebulas glowing brilliantly in the night. His eyes followed the steady rotation of the stars and quickly found the throne upon the crystalline platform lined by golden stairs. The throne itself was a jewel like none other; a single cut chunk of diamond from the heart of Thsin that was lit from within by an unknown light source. Like the being that sat upon it, this throne had an air of a presence; without knowing what it was you knew it was something special.

  Slowly, Aen mounted the steps that had seen only Iana’s feet until now and ascended upwards towards the seat of power. He felt the echoes of time with each step as the ghosts of eons past were tangible in the silence. Once at the top, Aen did what none other dared to do; what would be punishable by unimaginable torture; he sat on the Throne of Light. Aen felt the weight of what such a place levied upon the one who sat here, and thought back to the promise of the Prophets. At some point the burden and responsibility of the Imperial throne would fall to him eventually.

  He had reviewed all the files Caretaker had found for him, and read them carefully as he waited to make contact with the real enemy. Though fragmented, the ancient texts filled in the blanks of what had been going on behind all the smoke and mirrors of the Guild’s revolution. It worried him; it looked to be more than he could imagine.

  So now he sat with his head in his hands - where he had for some time now - and pondered pretty much everything as he waited. For a long time, Aen toyed with his thoughts before a click of machinery and the sound of motors roused him. As he looked up, three view screens had lowered from the vaulted ceiling above and floated at eye level. After dealing with the puppet for so long, Aen was relieved to finally see the master.

  He watched as they came to life, and he looked back into a throne room somewhere far away
. The room was dark, with dim lights lining the walls. In the center of the screen sat a figure in a black robe with silver trim; the face of which was shrouded by the robe’s hood. It sat upon a throne of burnt and twisted metal and bone; its gauntlets resting on alien skulls at the peak of the armrests. At its feet rested two animals the likes of which Aen had never imagined; a cross between a jungle cat with a boar-like head and a back covered in scales with spikes. Black chains curled around the beasts’ necks as they rested on the floor; vaguely aware of the monitors. It was a well set scene designed to intimidate others, but Aen was not the intended recipient; he now had an audience with the orator of all this madness.

  “Ah, the Harbinger lives.” The shrouded figure growled. “And if you are sitting there that must mean than my dear Myril has failed.”

  “It does.” Aen answered.

  “And what is the hero of Earth doing upon the throne?” it asked. “Have you embraced the tales of those treacherous story tellers?” it laughed.

  “I merely was waiting for you.” Aen grinned back. “It was inevitable you would check in with your ward and I wanted to be here to greet you.”

  “And what a pleasant surprise it is, and a pleasure to meet your acquaintance.” Aen could hear the mocking tone in its voice. “And I will do you the honor of extending my offer that was held by Myril to you.”

  “My loyalty and the Empire’s subservience for our lives?”

  “Yes. A sound and strong deal.”

  “No.”

  “You won’t even consider it?” it growled.

  “Your offer is flawed.” Aen said coldly. “And it is that flaw that makes it impossible to accept.”

  “Oh, please enlighten me.” It laughed.

  “It was never a sound agreement; at least on your end.” Aen began. “While Myril would have guaranteed you the Imperial allegiance, it would only be a matter of time until she ran out of worlds to sacrifice to you. It may have taken hundreds or thousands of years, but sooner or later you would have come for Lyarra and her children. In a time of war, to hide behind a truce with the enemy is both dangerous and foolish.”

  There was silence, and Aen knew he had thrown an age old plan of deceit back in the face of that which had planned it for so long. It was a bold move; one he hoped would rattle his adversary a bit to buy some time.

  “A thousand years of life is better than an instant death.” It growled. “Even the vaunted Fleet of the Lyarran Empire cannot stand against my army. Any resistance is foolish; it will only delay the inevitable.”

  “Better to die on your feet than on your knees.” Aen smiled. “I was born a human, and we have a hard time bowing to anyone; no matter how bleak the outcome is.”

  “You do not fear me?” it asked. “That is a mistake. I am the nameless darkness, the devourer of worlds, and commander of legions the likes you have never seen. My very voice carries fear into the hearts of the greatest warriors and even the Prophets, quiver in fright at the thought of my presence. You underestimate me Harbinger, and that slight is one you will live to regret.”

  “It is you who underestimates me.” Aen snapped back. “I am not an enemy you should take lightly.”

  “You taunt me!” it sneered. “You are but one, and I command legions in the numbers that will darken the light of the Gods themselves. For all your power that you pride yourself on, it will serve you naught in the days to come. The darkness is coming, and one being alone cannot stop it Harbinger.” It growled.

  “I am one, but so are you.” Aen replied. “And you can drive your forces with fear and anger, but I will give mine hope; and that is more powerful than you can imagine. You went to great lengths to avoid a direct conflict with the Empire, and that tells me this is a war that makes you more than a little uncomfortable.”

  “So it would seem. You know more than you let on; very impressive.”

  “I didn’t wait here just to see your beautiful face,” Aen began. “I waited to size you up. I wanted to see the king that history all but forgot; I wanted to see the king that was left behind to die with his God, Dalanth. The Empire may have dismissed you, but I will not. I will let them know that the one that has tried to undo them is the forgotten King Am-Na’Ka-ur.”

  “A name I have not heard spoken for an eternity; very impressive.” it sneered at him. “I underestimated you greatly, but I will not make that mistake again. I promise that when this is over, I will have taken everything you care about and turn it to ash; I will break you in ways you cannot imagine. You will bow at my feet Harbinger, and your precious Empire will burn around you.”

  Aen stood up and the monitors followed at eye level. His eyes blazed brighter than ever at this threat from the old king, and his reaction drew a look of surprise from his counterpart.

  “The Empire may burn, but it will be free.” His voice was deep and echoed in the throne room. “I am beyond you and your legions you are so proud of; my part in this war will be more than just a simple General. I will lay waste to your minions and make sure you never get the victory you desire. The Harbinger of the prophecies is just a tale, but I am something very real; something that you with all your planning, could not compensate for. “

  Am-Na’Ka-ur rose from his throne at this threat; the beasts stirred as he moved sensing his anger rise. Aen could feel the hatred from his adversary radiating through the video transmission. As he stood, Aen could make out a metallic mask of some sort beneath the hood and shadow; sculpted fangs of metal gleaned back at him in the dim light.

  “I will show you the meaning of fear; the truth behind pain.” He challenged. “From the ashes of Dalanth I have crawled, and in doing so I have become more powerful than ever. I command legions; and enough ships to conquer several galaxies. Long have I readied for this day, and your precious ghosts of days past, quiver at the sound of my approaching footsteps. The Gods themselves tremble with the sound of my voice; I will burn the galaxy you know and from its ashes I will reshape a new one. The darkness is coming, Aen of Terra Sol, and there is nothing you can do to stop me. You can either bow at my feet or fall beneath them.”

  The transmission ended and Aen slowly slumped back down into the throne. Aen had faced the unknown, and though he now knew what they were up against, it provided little solace to know how bleak the future looked. He had looked upon the face of darkness, and from here its power felt overwhelming.

  He felt Iana’s mind pressing on his; questioning him on where he was and what was wrong. Up until now he held her powerful mind at bay, but after facing Am-Na’Ka-ur he could no longer block her out.

  “Why are you there of all places?” she asked in his head. “Tell me what is happening? Why do you hide from such a joyous time?”

  “I was right.” He whispered out loud. “It didn’t end with Myril, it was just the beginning.”

  “So what do we do now?” Iana asked.

  “Convene the Grand Council as soon as possible.” He answered. “Replace those who have been lost but call an emergency session. I have seen the lord of the shadows, and heard his dark tidings. We need to prepare the Empire for war; a war none of us may survive.”

  EPILOGUE

  A zombie star burned at the center of a long dead solar system at the tail end of the Cygnus arm of the galaxy. It was a dark place; the remnant of the once bright star had very little light to share with the rest of its domain. From here the distant galaxy was but an afterthought and at the edge of the known galaxy, it wouldn’t even garner a first look by explorers; never mind a second look. But despite its remoteness, it was far from deserted.

  From a distance it looked like the entire area was littered with debris which orbited the neutron star, but after closer inspection it was not rock and remnants of shattered planets that lurked here; it was littered with an army of epic proportions. The outer part of the system was a ring of black ships that resembled giant pine cones. Organized in formations, the Husk ships were over a million miles thick in their groupings. The so called rouge r
ace was very much the opposite, and had been gathering here to reassemble their lost race for thousands of years. Almost the entire ancient race of the Husk was assembled here, with the stragglers either on their way or destroyed by Imperial vessels. It was an impressive fleet on its own, but here it was only part of the bigger picture.

  Layers upon layers of the scavenger ships hid a darker force within. Behind the Husk lines sat a larger armada of ships of a long forgotten race; one thought to be a myth or legend rather than reality. They outnumbered the Husk vessels eight to one, and circled the inner system like sharks in the ocean. In the tales of old, they were known as ghosts in the darkness; a race of pure evil that had become the equivalent of boogeymen whispered to children to keep them on the right path. Like the Husk, they had been scattered about galactic space lost without cause; until a darker force had given them a calling worth devoting themselves for.

  Every race had names for them; M’Akkash by the J’Karin, Jun-Isha by the Uwarryn Collective, Ank by the Paxyn, and by the humans they had been called Valkyrie. Merchants of death, they feasted upon the souls of the dead as they slaughtered any and all they came upon. Battle attracted them, and like vultures circling a potential meal, the bigger the potential for carnage the better they would dine.

  Once a mutation that had begun on their planet of origin, the Valkyrie soon became the dominant species on the planet which wiped out its host race before destroying the very planet itself in their insatiable thirst of energy to feed upon. From there, they scattered amongst the stars to descend on unlucky victims, mostly in small enough numbers they could be driven off by strong enough warriors. Over the millennia, sightings became few and far between as they had been brought together for a most sinister reason.

  Dark figures of muscle, sinew and bone with black leathery flesh pulled tight across their bodies made them the stuff of nightmares; the thieves of souls stood eight feet tall with a slight slouch to their postures. Their skull-like faces had huge fangs that their lipless mouths grinned back to their victims. Adding to the ghoulish appearance was the bat-like wings protruding from their backs that they would curl up closed over themselves like cloaks to disguise themselves in times of discretion. Each vessel was its own colony and wore a different type of armor pillaged from worlds they had visited.