Disclaimer: I don't own Oban Star-racers, its characters and concepts. I do own everything else such as original characters and the characterization of cannon characters after the end of the series.
A/N: This story was inspired by a picture I saw on Deviantart (http://www. 48032312/?qo1&qThe+Next +Great+ Deceiver &qhboost 3Apopular+agesig ma3A24h+agesc ale3A5) that made me draw my own Avatar Jordan picture which spawned this story. So yeah, just thought you all should know that. On with the story!
The Great Deceiver
Ch.1: The Great Race of Oban
Jordan C. Wilde followed the decent of his ships as they landed on Alwas; competitors of all races disembarked with their Star-racers, crews and occasionally families. He watched the Filh team step out of their module onto the dock. There was a man, a woman and, in her arms, a child. Jordan sighed heavily as he approached them.
"Greetings," he said with a bright smile. "I am most pleased you arrived safely. If you will follow me, I will show you to your lodgings." Then he laughed good-naturedly at their confused looks. Before they could inquire anything, however, he continued, "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Jordan; I am the Avatar's assistant."
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A tear ran down his cheek as he forced himself to watch the Earth Team module shoot into the sky and out of sight. Then it was gone…and so was Molly. He was all alone now.
"Jordan," said a deep voice. Jordan turned to face two of the creators. "It is time to start your training."
One of the creators floated forward. "I will teach you the ways of Oban," it said in its Sul like voice.
"The way of Oban?" Jordan asked. "That's that?"
"I will show you," the Sul Creator said. "Now, come." He turned around and floated away. Jordan furrowed his glowing eyebrows and concentrated. He slowly began to bob along after the Sul Creator.
The first creator flew in front of Jordan and stopped. Jordan crashed into it. "What is it?" he snapped.
"You must float with grace and dignity," the creator said, his voice reminding Jordan of Rush. "Not like a new born bird."
"Well, would you mind showing me how?" Jordan asked angrily.
"Just think of it like walking. If you want to walk, what do you do?"
"I just walk."
"No…before that. What must you do?"
This was a science question, Jordan knew. He wasn't really good at science…Mostly because the words were so long and hard to pronounce and he had remember fifty of them at the same time. But he knew this question… He thought about it for a moment before finally saying, "Your brain has to send the command to your legs."
"Correct," said the Rush Creator. "But you do not have any legs, do you?"
"Not anymore."
"So what must your brain do now?"
"Send a different message."
"To where?"
"…I don't know."
If the creators had faces and were able to smile, Jordan would've sworn this one was…mockingly, he would've bet. "You send it to your whole body."
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Ten thousand years had passed since the last Great Race of Oban and since Jordan had become Avatar. Other than the green robe, the gold and red Chinese styled shirt, the black dress pants and leather boots, he looked very much the same in his human form as he always had.
He led the Filh family over to the mammoths and then went to his own personal steed—a horse. Or rather…it looked like a horse. Seventeen hands tall, jet-black, hooves of diamond, pearly white fangs and two black rams horns curling from just behind its ears towards its back made it a very intimidating creature. Jordan put his foot in the stirrup and mounted. The moment he landed in the saddle, he gathered up the reigns, and it started to prance, snort, paw the ground and roll its crimson eyes wildly.
Jordan leaned forward, his longer, duller two-colored hair falling down into his eyes a bit. "Relax," he whispered and ran a hand along the creature's neck.
The Filh family glanced at each other before climbing onto one of the mammoths. Jordan turned around and waved at it, then gave his steed a gentle nudge. It jerked forward, but Jordan held the reigns firmly and tightened his legs against the creature's sides. It quickly stopped.
After giving it another nudge, the creature walked forward at a steady pace. Jordan relaxed. He showed the Filhs to the hanger, and then rode around Alwas to make sure that everything was running smoothly. The Scrubs, the Filhs, the humans, the Nourasians, the Crogs…they were all here. Trotting into the countryside of Alwas, he looked for the temples that would take him to the other two planets where the pre-selections were being held. When he had left, everything had been running smoothly, but now he had to make sure that everything continued to go well; he also needed to start the races.
Half and hour from the city, he found the two temples. Jordan's steed began to prance, eager and ready to go. "All right, boy," Jordan said. "Your pick. Which one do we go through?"
The creature snorted, spun to the left and galloped headlong into one of the temples. Its hooves pounded the stone. It neared the opposite wall. Jordan drew back an opened hand—a ball of appeared—he threw it at the wall—it hit and the wall flared blue—just before the creature jumped into the air…and passed right through the wall. A few seconds later, and the wall returned to normal.
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Jordan floated (a bit more gracefully than before) across one of the lush fields of Oban behind the Sul Creator, the temple flying a ways off.
"Everything lives…and everything dies," the Sul Creator said. "It is part of an endless, timeless cycle. You die and your body decomposes, become one with the ground once more. From there you become the grass, which is eaten to sustain another life that is, possibly, then eaten to sustain another. Any one person is completely insignificant in the eyes of Life and Time…yet at the same time more valuable than the finest jewel."
Jordan stayed silent, taking it all in.
"That is the way of Oban…and that is the way of Life," the Sul Creator said. "What is gone is gone. It does not come back. Now…I want you to tell me why we would not be able to bring something back from the dead."
Jordan instantly wanted to say 'what is gone is gone and doesn't come back', but he knew that the Sul Creator didn't want him to just parrot back what he heard. The creator wanted him to understand.
Finally, Jordan said slowly, "You wouldn't be able to bring something back from the dead…because their body is gone…and in the ground, and the grass and the animals…even in other people…" The creator nodded to show Jordan was right so far. "And to bring someone back…you'd have to take something away from the rest of Life…"
"And?" the Sul Creator prompted.
"And to get their soul…" Jordan paused. What about the soul? It wasn't a tangible thing.
"What is a soul?" the Sul Creator asked.
"It's who you are," Jordan said.
"That is your personality…and how is your personality formed?"
"Through the experiences you have in life. They shape who you are," Jordan replied.
"Then, logically, would not your soul be what life has shaped you into? Would not it simply be your brain telling you what to do and what not to do?" the Sul Creator asked. "Would it not have disintegrated into the ground and become another part of the timeless cycle of life?"
Jordan's shoulder's sagged. "That's really depressing."
"Perhaps…if that was what your soul is," the Sul Creator said.
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They arrived on Marlakar, a relatively new planet, only a few thousand years old. Covered in thick vegetation, it strongly reminded Jordan of the prehistoric times—the times of the dinosaurs from Earth. Over ten thousand years, he had gotten used to things he saw reminding him of things from Earth.
His steed snorted and stomped his foot.
"Relax, Charlie," Jordan whispered.
Perhaps "Charlie" wasn't the best name for a creature who looked so ferocious, but Charlie didn't seem to mind much now. When Jordan had first given him the name, Jordan had almost lost his hand. However, the name seemed to have grown on Charlie.
The creators had revealed to Jordan fifty years after he'd become Avatar (was fully capable in his abilities) that the Avatar was granted to the power to elongate the life of one living thing so that it could be his companion for the rest of his life as Avatar. Jordan had been tempted to use it right away, but he had decided against it and saved that power until he had found the companion he considered perfect. Charlie had ended up being that companion.
The two made their way through the jungle that was the planet until they reached the wooden hangers that had been built alongside the major river of Marlakar—the Dalibarazan.
"Assistant Jordan, when start the races?"
Jordan's eyes locked on a tree as a figure seemingly melted out of its bark and walked forward. Jordan looked down at the strong, young adult Marlakarian. He had dark brown skin with even dark stripes and black hair that fell down to his shoulders. He wore something that reminded Jordan of a kilt—it too was dark brown with darker stripes. The Marlakarian had a jaguar-like face and black cat ears (also reminiscent of a jaguar), pointed teeth and claws. Otherwise, he looked quite human.
It had surprised Jordan when he'd first seen another humanoid alien, but he'd quickly learned that humans were a very young race and that it wasn't other aliens that looked like humans—it was humans that looked like other aliens.
"They start soon," Jordan replied. "The Avatar will arrive shortly. Tell your guests to go to the clearing on the mountain. That is where the Avatar shall speak."
"I will go, Assistant Jordan," the Marlakarian said; then he turned and ran along the river shouting the news.
A Lupanian slumped against a hanger, fast asleep, jerked awake and looked around in alarm as the Marlakarian ran past. Its wolf ears twitched. Then the humanoid wolf creature stood up, stretched and then turned to its hanger and shouted something. A wolf-cougar ran out and loped along in front of its partner as they headed toward the mountain.
Jordan dismounted Charlie and hid him next to the Lupanian hanger. He waited fifteen minutes, making sure that no one was left before transforming into his Avatar state. Charlie snorted and flicked and ear; he was too used to this to do anything else.
Jordan pet his nose and disappeared in a beam of light only to reappear above the clearing on the mountain. Giving the same speech as Satis and Kanaletto before him and the Avatar before even him, Jordan surveyed the crowd. He saw the Lupanian, a Marlakarian, an Inna… All three looked strong and determined, cunning and swift. They, surely, would make it to the final rounds. For the first time, Jordan found himself looking forward to them.
