First Song

by Blaise Corvin

  Noah was exhausted, but he stood tall. Some of the people from the surrounding houses scurried away, escaping. He needed to buy time for them.

  So far, he had heard and somehow understood the Aelve’s language. If his orb could do that, maybe he could turn it around, too. He opened his mouth and tried to let his thoughts form into the alien language. To his surprise, his throat uttered guttural noises and whistles, saying, “The Voice? You speak of Kahlek?”

  At first, the Aelve obviously didn’t know how to react. Noah breathed hard. He drew in another breath and said, “Your name is Fentesh, right? You aren’t very intelligent, are you?”

  Fentesh’s disbelief shifted to confusion and then anger. His hand produced what looked like a seed, and it disappeared into his armor. Spikes formed on one shoulder. The alien snarled, “You have no right to speak our language, let alone the Voice’s name. He has lifted the Blue Mountains to be of equal footing with the Silver Clouds. What do you, a barbaric primitive, know of Kahlek?”

  Noah’s mind raced, thinking of everything he could remember about his first encounter with the Aelves in his past life. When they had come to Doc’s cabin, Kahlek had worn different colored leaves than the others in the group. They had cast disdainful looks at him. Noah coughed and croaked, “Kahlek told you to look for me, huh? From what I remember last time we met, he didn’t seem to have much respect from the others.”

  The leaves on Fentesh’s armor rustled, at least the ones that were not too burned to move, and the grass knives on his wrist grew. Noah eyed the blades warily. The Aelve said, “Enough talk. You are not worthy of speaking to, and your tongue spews lies!”

  Noah barely got his shield up in time, and his injured shoulder screamed in agony. Grass blades punched clean through his shield. The blow had been solid and effective. The force of Fentesh’s attack pushed Noah back, and his shield too. Just the tips of the Aelve’s blade punctured Noah’s arm, digging through the links of his armor, and he yelled in pain.

  He called upon his mother's lullaby with added percussion and tempo, his war song. The heavy melody ran through his body, giving him a burst of energy. Noah had hoped not to use the song again for combat. He had a feeling there was a price to pay for the burst of power it provided.

  With a kick, Noah created some distance. [Combat: Shield], and [Combat: Short Sword], both level five helped guide his body. The Aelve grunted trying to pull his blades out, but Noah tilted to shield to side to trap them and put his enemy off balance. He whipped a couple wrap cuts to the side of his enemy’s body, and a chop at his opponent’s face, but the inhuman monster was just too strong, too fast. An armored forearm caught all three attacks, but the last one had almost slipped through.

  Roaring, Noah barely parried the injured Aelve’s vine knife as it shot for his face. The blade of his falchion scraped against the chitin with a sound like a fork dragging across a seashell.

  Suddenly, the Aelve reached up and grabbed at Noah’s sword, but the youth managed to disengage and back away before losing the weapon. After retreating two more steps, Noah stared the Aelve down. The alien’s elbow dripped—he was bleeding. Noah couldn’t tell if he’d actually scored a hit on Fentesh or if the big scout had just opened a burn-related wound.

  The Aelve hadn’t used his ranged weapon yet, and Noah wasn’t sure why. It was possible he was trying to conserve ammo, or had reasoned that Noah had somehow resisted the flame attacks of the other Aelves. It could just be a pride thing too. Noah wasn’t going to complain. The blades and damaged vine blade had been enough to almost kill him several times already.

  At that moment, Noah knew that he was probably going to die. As Worm, he could have just given up, run away, but Noah couldn’t abandon other people to a creature like this. He’d fought hard, though, and had somehow killed two of them. He’d done his best to prepare humanity for the Shift and had even gone toe to toe with the Aelves without insta-dying.

  But a deeper part of him refused to die a martyr. I’m no warrior, he admitted. But I’m a fighter. If this is how I die, I’m gonna take this monster down with me.

  The thought gave him power. That’s right. I’m not a warrior, I’m a bard! But seriously, it’d be nice to be a warrior right now. His mundane skills were useless against the Aelves’ superior abilities and weapons. All Noah had had to give him an edge were his core [Listener] skills.

  [Jack of All] had created all of his mundane skills, but not only was the Aelve just too powerful, Noah was more tired than he’d ever been in his life. He thought of his other core skills. Even if he had his guitar, [Harmony] wouldn’t have done him any good in this situation. Maybe [Stumble] would activate to help him avoid an attack, but the chance for the passive skill triggering was too low to count on.

  But suddenly, [Listen] picked up a familiar set of stalking footsteps from behind. Noah felt a glimmer of hope, and knew he needed to stall for just a little more time. Vine knife poised to strike, and bladed arm held forward, the Aelve looked prepared to close again but seemed to be studying him. Noah chuckled and said in the Aelve language, “It must be embarrassing that I am still alive, right? I mean, I know that if this was a fair fight, I’d already be dead. But luckily it’s not, and it wasn’t for your two friends either.”

  The alien’s bladed arm twitched.

  Noah continued, “You have been looking for me for a long time, right? Well, here I am! What are you going to do about it?” Charisma gave Noah a nudge, and he went with the flow, saying, “Your people, you called them the Unaleshi? The Unaleshi are weak.”

  “We are weak?” hissed Fentesh, dangerously quiet.

  With a crash of a door slamming open, Noah noticed a girl burst from a house out the corner of his eye. He recognized her. Her name was Miscy Torres, a Junior at Washington High School, and she must have been born with the worst timing in the world.

  “It causes you distress when I kill others of your kind, yes? You believe the Unaleshi are weak? Know despair before you die, Human.”

  The Aelve held up his arm with the ranged weapon and pointed it at the distant girl. The organic armor moved slightly and Noah launched two throwing knives in quick succession, but the Aelve barely even noticed, knocking them both out of the air with his grass knives.

  Finally, [Listen] let Noah know it was time. In English, he yelled, “Aim for the face!”

  Johnny Dormund’s giant shadow stepped around the corner of a house, levelling his favorite deer hunting crossbow he kept in the lockbox of his truck. The sleek, modern weapon clicked before it thrummed, the sounds echoing through the street. Fentesh, the Aelven scout, never knew what hit him. His head slammed to the side, Johnny’s expertly aimed bolt sticking out of his forehead.

  The world seemed to slow as the alien whirled, his weapon arm extended, swinging in Noah’s direction.

  Stumble has activated

  Noah found himself flat on his back, his ringing head resting on the road. Behind him, on the other side of the street, the towering figure of his best friend stood very still. Light from the setting sun poured over Johnny’s back, framing him in a golden halo. Blood ran down his boots.

  No, Noah thought, confusion turning to horror.

  He replayed the last few seconds in his mind. The violet projectile that would have hit Noah had hit Johnny instead. With a rasping whimper, Noah shakily stood and ran to his friend’s body. He knelt, holding Johnny’s head in his lap. The wound was mortal, especially now with no ambulances and modern hospitals. Johnny’s letterman jacket was already soaked in blood.

  The big, gentle boy looked confused until he saw Noah’s face. “Hey, buddy,” he said weakly. He spoke as if it was Noah who needed comforting.

  Tears fell from Noah’s chin, landing on his friend’s face. He said, “You were supposed to stay with Danielle.”

  Johnny looked at Noah as if he had just said the silliest thing in the world. “I knew you would need help. Also, I still feel bad about not believing you before. You know, about everything
.”

  “Johnny—“

  The big boy shook his head slightly. “Noah. Everyone said you were special. But…that’s gotta be lonely, right? Even now, doing everything alone to help everyone. Just promise me something, man.”

  “Anything.”

  “Don’t do everything solo. I hate seeing you push yourself away from everyone. Please. I know you really well, and you need people as much as they need you.”

  Noah wanted to say something, but the words caught in his throat. He had seen death before, and prepared his entire life for the Shift. He’d known that people would die, but not Johnny. Not like this. His friend’s massive hand gripped Noah’s, and he said, “Promise me, Noah. Whatever you do, do it with others.”

  “I promise. I will.”

  “You better. Thanks for everything–like, for being my friend when I was just a fat kid into video games. You were the best friend I could have asked for. I always wondered why you spent time with me, figured you would stop, but you never did, and now we are eighteen. Can I tell you a secret?”

  Noah’s lip trembled. “Sure.”

  “You always seemed lonely, and I know you’re an only child. Sometimes I thought of myself like your brother. Kinda weird, huh?” He sighed, his breath rattling, then weakly said, “Anyway, I’m getting tired. Time to sleep. Later, Brains.” Johnny closed his eyes and smiled.

  The gamer-turned-athlete let out his last breath, and he was gone.

  Noah’s hand tightened around the big, honest boy’s wrist. “Later, Brawns.” He lowered his aching body forward and rested his forehead on Johnny’s shoulder. “You were the best friend I could have had too.”

  Chapter 27

  It took a while for Noah to regain control after the first wave of grief. He must have fallen asleep at some point, because he woke up with a handful of people standing protectively around him holding machetes and shovels. Burgess had been working with a group of other men, ignoring shouted questions, holding back a crowd from the body of the dead Aelve.

  The next hour or so was a blur, but Noah vaguely registered Burgess calming down frightened people and organizing the removal of the Aelve body…and of Johnny’s.

  Respectful hands helped Noah up and he let himself be led to some shade. His armor clanked and he maintained a death grip on his weapon, but nobody said anything about it. If anything, some of the looks he was getting, at least the ones he noticed, made him a little uncomfortable even through his sorrow.

  He sat, letting his mind go blank and letting time past. Finally, Noah got ahold of himself, burying his sorrow for the time being. There would be a price to pay later, but he could think again. If this had been his first life, he probably wouldn’t have been much good to anyone the rest of the day…but unfortunately he wasn’t new to this sort of thing. The first Shift had been the worst day of his life before, but now he definitely had a new one. Wonderful.

  After a long, shaking breath, he squeezed his swollen eyes shut tightly, and stood in an explosive rush. A little girl eeped and ran back to her mother. The people standing around Noah with garden tools continued to face outward, but their expressions flickered. [Listen] picked up one of the men mutter, “Tough kid.”

  Noah’s body hurt—bad—but he could recover later. This was still the day of the Shift, and he had a job to do.

  He marched over to Burgess. The older man was talking to some young kids on bikes, handing them handwritten notes and giving directions. Noah nodded in appreciation—the Interpol agent was smart and resourceful, and the Shift hadn’t changed that.

  “Burgess, is the bag safe?”

  The agent’s eyes flicked up and he gave an approving look. “Yes. Danielle is safe too, and the bag has been secured deep in the location you mentioned before.” The stocky, silver-haired man raised an eyebrow at the sword in Noah’s hand. “Are you going to keep walking around with the pig sticker in your hand?”

  “Ah,” said Noah and sheathed his sword. “Come with me. We need to go.”

  Burgess raised both eyebrows, but then glanced around at the people taking control of the neighborhood, probably telling other people whatever Burgess had told them. Noah didn’t have time to find out—there were only a few more hours of daylight–if that–and he had places to be. Finally, Burgess said, “Okay.”

  Noah led the older man to his safe house in the neighborhood. He’d noticed that Burgess had picked up a cheap machete from somewhere, but shook his head. That wouldn’t do. The cache didn’t have any armor that would fit the agent, but after arriving, he gave his old boss a dagger to hang off his belt, and a short, broad-bladed spear with a kydex sheath to sling over his back. The small, deadly spear was probably one of the most effective melee weapons that an untrained person could easily carry.

  After that, Noah fetched a couple bicycles from the basement. As he left the house, he noticed that curious people from the neighborhood had followed them, and Noah figured there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Burgess obviously thought otherwise, because he called over a man armed with a hoe. “Tony,” he said. “Make sure nobody gets into that house, please.”

  “Is it dangerous, Mr. Goodrich?”

  “Something like that. Tell anyone who asks that it’s a matter of national security.”

  Noah made a face but kept his mouth shut. Time was critical. Next thing he knew, he and Burgess were riding down the street. Noah had recovered his two other throwing knives before leaving, and was armed with his falchion and damaged shield. His wounds had stopped bleeding at some point, but they all felt like they could open at any time. He knew he probably looked horrible. Noah told the spear-carrying Interpol agent where he was heading.

  “Lucy’s Diner?” Burgess said. His voice still held a note of underlying dismay about the situation, but he had asked the question in a business-like manner. Noah’s relationship with his former boss had changed, their roles somewhat reversed now.

  Noah said, “Yeah. I know that at least one Merriweather agent is only one town over, right? If you can reach any of your people, tell them to rally in Steelton, we can fill them in later—the more people to help in the next few weeks, the better. Meanwhile, I have my own people, and the next few hours are important. Steelton will collapse into chaos really fast if we don’t hurry. Communication will be terrible, so the bigger head start we have, the more chance will be able to build instead of rebuild.”

  Burgess studied Noah as the wheels of their bikes whirred. “I think one of the most surreal things about all of this is how you are acting now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You are so serious, focused. Then there’s how you fought those—things. It’s like you’re a different person.”

  “I’ve prepared my whole life for this,” Noah said with a shrug.

  They reached a four-way stop and Noah halted. He nodded east. “You’re probably that way. I’m this way. Your people, Merriweathers, are a priority, but any more law enforcement or other emergency services people you can get, the better. Civil engineers and community leaders will be good, too. Bring them all here for a full briefing. I’ll arm the ones that people can vouch for. Don’t go too crazy, because time is not our friend right now, but even folks from only one or two other towns will be helpful.”

  Burgess adjusted his tie and turned to ride away, but stopped. He said, “I’m trusting you.”

  Noah didn’t reply. There was nothing more to say. Then the older agent rode away on his mountain bike, dressed in a suit and carrying a spear. The scene would have looked comical if not for Burgess’ no-nonsense demeanor, and the obvious lethality of the weapon on his back.

  With one last glance at his former boss’ vanishing back, Noah took off down the street toward his house. He’d always imagined that when the Shift finally came, he’d be working feverishly to ensure that all his careful plans were executed perfectly. However, since everything had happened early, many of his more complicated ideas were no longer possible. Thank goodness for his conti
ngency planning, but right now, the only thing he could personally influence was what would happen in Steelton.

  My town will be the beginning, he reminded himself.

  He didn’t see many people on the roads outside of town, and eventually arrived in front of his house. A handful of people from the neighborhood stood on his front lawn, surrounding a group of twenty Log Cabin Security guards, all armed. The guards had pistol crossbows slung over a shoulder, riot shields, and clubs. Noah breathed a sigh of relief upon spotting them. He’d had disaster instructions in the company guidebook and in each Log Cabin location’s individual orders.

  During a power outage, there was a device at each Log Cabin site that Noah had cooked up, a simple device that only worked with great pressure. If the device didn’t work, instructions had several other things for guards to check before instructing them to open a special box containing instructions for the Shift, and a few simple Shift-effective weapons. Not every Log Cabin guard on duty could be expected to follow the instructions, but these Steelton guards had performed perfectly.

  Of course, they didn’t know much more about the Shift than Noah’s neighbors did at the moment, so they were mostly just saying comforting things. Uniforms usually meant authority to most people, so it seemed to be working.

  As Noah approached, he heard rampant speculation, theories ranging from terrorist attacks to the possibility of a nearby power plant breaking down. Noah began pushing through the crowd of panicked people before one of them actually saw him and gasped. This was when Noah remembered he was beat up, battle-scarred, and covered in blood. Most of the surrounding people recognized him, trying to get his attention, demanding to know what was going on. Noah responded politely, telling them all to head to Lucy’s Diner, but kept moving.